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THE

POPULAK SCIENCE

MONTHLY

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VOL. IX.

MAY TO OCTOBER, 1876.

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1876.

ENTERED, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1876,

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kUBTIN II

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY.

MAY, 1876.
SOCIETY AN OKGANISM. 1

BY HEEBEET SPENCER.

question, What is a society ? has to be asked and answered
at the outset. Until we have decided whether or not to regard
a society as an entity, and until we have decided whether, if regarded
as an entity, a society is to be classed as absolutely unlike all other
entities or as like some others, our conception of the subject-matter
before us remains vague.

It may be said that a society is but a collective name for a num
ber of individuals. Carrying the controversy between nominalism
and realism into another sphere, a nominalist might affirm that, just
as there exist only the members of a species, while the species con
sidered apart from them has no existence, so the units of a society
alone exist, while the existence of the society is but verbal. Instanc
ing a lecturer s audience as an aggregate which, by disappearing at
the close of the lecture, proves itself to be not a thing but only a
certain arrangement of persons, he might argue that the like holds
of the citizens forming a nation.

But, without disputing the other steps of his argument, the last
step may be denied. The arrangement, temporary in one case, is
lasting in the other ; and it is the permanence of the relations among
component parts which constitutes the individuality of a whole as
distinguished from the individualities of its parts. A coherent mass
broken into fragments ceases to be a thing ; while, conversely, the
stones, bricks, ajid wood, previously separate, become the thing called
a house if connected in fixed ways.

Thus we consistently regard a society as an entity, because, though
formed of discrete units, a certain concreteness in the aggregate of

1 From advance-sheets of the "Principles of Sociology," Part II, "The Inductions
of Sociology."

VOL. IX. 1

4 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Evolution establishes in them both, not differences simply, but defi
nitely-connected differences differences such that each makes the
others possible. The parts of an inorganic aggregate are so related
that one may change greatly without appreciably affecting the rest.
It is otherwise with the parts of ah organic aggregate or of a social
aggregate. In either of these the changes in the parts are mutually
determined, and the changed actions of the parts are mutually depend
ent. In both, too, this mutuality increases as the evolution advances.
The lowest type of animal is all stomach, all respiratory surface, all
limb. Development of a type having appendages by which to move
about or lay hold of food can take place only if these appendages,
losing power to absorb nutriment directly from surrounding bodies,
are supplied with nutriment by parts which retain the power of ab
sorption. A respiratory surface, to which the circulating fluids are
brought to be aerated, can be formed only on condition that the con
comitant loss of ability to supply itself with materials for repair and
growth is made good by the development of a structure bringing
these materials. So is it in a society. What we call with perfect
propriety its organization has a necessary implication of the same kind.
While rudimentary, it is all warrior, all hunter, all hut-builder, all
tool-maker: every part fulfills for itself all needs. Progress to a
stage characterized by a permanent army can go on only as there
arise arrangements for supplying that army with food, clothes, and
munitions of war, by the rest. If here the population occupies itself
solely with agriculture and there with mining if these manufacture
goods while those distribute them it must be on condition that, in
exchange for a special kind of service rendered by each part to other
parts, these other parts severally give due proportions of their services.

This division of labor, first dwelt on by political economists as a
social phenomenon, and thereupon recognized by biologists as a phe
nomenon of living bodies, which they called the " physiological divi
sion of labor," is that which in the society, as in the animal, makes it
a living whole. Scarcely can I Emphasize sufficiently the truth that,
in respect of this fundamental trait, a social organism and an indi
vidual organism are entirely alike. When we see that, iii a mammal,
arresting the lungs quickly brings the heart to a stand ; that if the
stomach fails absolutely in its office all other parts by-and-by cease
to act ; that paralysis of its limbs entails on the body at large death
from want of food or inability to escape ; that loss of even such small
organs as the eyes deprives the rest of a service essential to their
preservation we cannot but admit that mutual dependence of parts
is an essential characteristic. And when, in a society, we see that
the workers in iron stop if the miners do not supply materials ; that
makers of clothes cannot carry on their business in the absence of
those who spin and weave textile fabrics ; that the manufacturing
community will cease to act unless the food-producing and food-dis-

SOCIETY AN ORGANISM. 5

tributing agencies are acting ; that the controlling powers, govern
ments, bureaus, judicial officers, police, must fail to keep order when
the necessaries of life are not supplied to them by the parts kept in
order we are obliged to say that this mutual dependence of parts is
similarly rigorous. Unlike as the two kinds of aggregates are in
sundry respects, they are alike in respect of this fundamental char
acter, and the characters implied by it.

How the combined actions of mutually-dependent parts constitute
life of the whole, and how there hence results a parallelism between
national life and individual life, we see still more clearly on learning
that the life of every visible organism is constituted by the lives of
units too minute to be seen by the unaided eye.

An undeniable illustration is furnished us by the strange order
Myxomycetes. The spores or germs produced by one of these forms
become ciliated monads which, after a time of active locomotion,
change into shapes like those of amoebae, move about, take in nu
triment, grow, multiply by fission. Then these amoeba-form indi
viduals swarm together, begin to coalesce into groups, and these
groups to coalesce with one another, making a mass sometimes bare
ly visible, sometimes as big as the hand. This plasmodium, irregu
lar, mostly reticulated, and in substance gelatinous, itself exhibits
movements of its parts like those of a gigantic rhizopod, creeping
slowly over surfaces of decaying matters and even up the stems of
plants. Here, then, union of many minute living individuals to form
a relatively vast aggregate in which their individualities are appar
ently lost, but the life of which results from combination of their
lives, is demonstrable.

In other cases, instead of units which, originally discrete, lose
their individualities by aggregation, we have units which, arising by
multiplication from the same germ, do not part company, but never
theless display their separate lives very clearly. A growing sponge
has its horny fibres clothed with a gelatinous substance, and the
microscope shows this to consist of moving monads. We cannot
deny life to the sponge as a whole, for it shows us some corporate
actions. The outer amoeba-form units partially lose their individuali
ties by fusion into a protective layer or skin ; the supporting frame
work of fibres is produced by the joint agency of the monads, and
from their joint agency also result those currents of water which are
drawn in through the small orifices and expelled through the larger.
But, while there is thus shown a feeble aggregate life, the lives of the
myriads of component units are very little subordinated : these units
form, as it were, a nation having scarcely any subdivision of func
tions. Or, in the words of Prof. Huxley, " the sponge represents a
kind of subaqueous city, where the people are arranged about the
streets and roads in such a manner that each can easily appropriate
his food from the water as it passes along."

6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Even in the highest animals there remains traceable this relation be
tween the aggregate life and the lives of components. Blood is a liquid
in which, along with nutritive matters, circulate innumerable living
units the blood-corpuscles. These have severally their life-histories.
During its first stage each of them, then known as a white corpuscle,
makes independent movements like those of an amrefca ; and though
in its adult stage, as a red, flattened disk, it is not visibly active, its
individual life continues. Nor is this individual life of the units
provable only where free flotation in a liquid allows its signs to be
readily seen. Sundry mucous surfaces, as those of the air-passages,
are covered with what is called ciliated epithelium a layer of minute
cells packed side by side, and each bearing on its exposed end several
cilia continually in motion. The wavings of these cilia are essen
tially like those of the monads which live in the passages running
through a sponge ; and just as the joint action of these ciliated
sponge monads propels the current of water, so does the joint action
of the ciliated epithelium-cells move forward the mucous secretion
covering them. If there needs further proof of the individual lives
of these epithelium-cells, we have it in the fact that, when detached
and placed in fluid, they " move about with considerable rapidity for
some time, by the continued vibrations of the cilia with which they
are furnished."

On thus seeing that an ordinary living organism may be regarded
as a nation of units that live individually, and have many of them
considerable degrees of independence, we shall perceive how truly a
nation of human beings may be regarded as an organism.

The relation between the lives of the units and the life of the ag
gregate has a further character common to the two cases. By a ca
tastrophe the life of the aggregate may be destroyed without imme
diately destroying the lives of all its units ; while, on the other hand,
if no catastrophe abridges it, the life of the aggregate immensely
exceeds in length the lives of its units.

In a cold-blooded animal, ciliated cells perform their motions with
perfect regularity long after the creature they are part of has become
motionless ; muscular fibres retain their power of contracting under
stimulation; the cells of secreting organs go on pouring out their
product if blood is artificially supplied to them; and the components
of an entire organ, as the heart, continue their cooperation for many
hours after its detachment. Similarly, arrest of those commercial
activities and governmental coordinations, etc., which constitute the
corporate life of a nation, may be caused, say by an inroad of bar
barians, without immediately stopping the actions of all the units.
Certain classes of these, especially the widely-diffused ones engaged
in food-production, may, in the remoter districts, long survive and
carry on their individual occupations.

Conversely, in both cases, if not brought to a close by violence

SOCIETY AN ORGANISM. 7

the life of the aggregate greatly exceeds in duration the lives of its
units. The minute living elements composing a developed animal
severally evolve, play their parts, decay, and are replaced, while the
animal as a whole continues. In the deep layer of the skin, cells are
formed by fission, which, as they enlarge, are thrust outward, and, be
coming flattened to form the epidermis, eventually .exfoliate, while the
younger ones beneath take their places. Liver-cells, growing by im
bibition of matters from which they separate the bile, presently die,
and their vacant seats are occupied by another generation. Even
bone, though so dense and seemingly inert, is permeated by blood
vessels carrying materials to replace old components by new ones.
And the replacement, rapid in some tissues and in others slow, goes
on at such rate that, during the continued existence of the entire
body, each portion of it has been many times over produced and de
stroyed. Thus it is also with a society and its units. Integrity of
the whole and of each large division is perennially maintained, not
withstanding the deaths of component citizens. The fabric of living
persons, which, in a manufacturing town, produces some commodity for
national use, remains after a century as large a fabric, though all the
masters and workers who a century ago composed it have long since
disappeared. Even with the minor parts of this industrial structure
the like holds. A firm that dates from past generations, still carry
ing on business in the name of its founder, has had all its members and
employes changed one by one, perhaps several times over, while the
firm has continued to occupy the same place and to maintain like rela
tions to buyers and sellers. Throughout we find this. Governing
bodies, general and local, ecclesiastical corporations, armies, institu
tions of all orders down to guilds, clubs, philanthropic associations,
etc., show us a continuity of life exceeding that of the persons consti
tuting them. Nay, more. As part of the same law, we see that the
existence of the society at large exceeds in duration that of some of
these compound parts. Private unions, local public bodies, secondary
national institutions, towns carrying on special industries, may decay,
while the nation, maintaining its integrity, evolves in mass and structure.

In both cases, too, the mutually-dependent functions of the various
divisions, being severally made up of the actions of many units, it
results that these units, dying one by one, are replaced without the
function in which they share being sensibly affected. In a muscle
each sarcous element wearing out in its turn is removed, and a sub
stitution made while the rest carry on their combined contractions as
usual; and the retirement of a public official or death of a shopman
perturbs inappreciably the business of the department or activity of
the industry in which he had a share.

Hence arises in the social organism, as in the individual organism,
a life of the whole quite unlike the lives of the units, though it is a
life produced by them.

8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

From these likenesses between the social organism and the indi
vidual organism, we must now turn to an extreme unlikeness. The
parts of an animal form a concrete whole, but the parts of a so
ciety form a whole that is discrete. While the living units com
posing the one are bound together in close contact, the living units
composing the other are free, not in contact, and more or less widely
dispersed. How, then, can there be any parallelism ?

Though this difference is fundamental and apparently puts com
parison out of the question, yet examination proves it to be less than
it seems. Presently I shall have to point out that complete admis
sion of it consists with maintenance of the alleged analogy; but we
will first observe how one who thought it needful might argue that
even in this respect there is more kinship than a cursory glance shows.

He might urge that the physically-coherent body of an animal is
not composed all through of living units, but that it consists in large
measure of differentiated parts which the vitally active parts have
formed, and which thereafter become semi-vital and in some cases
almost un-vital. Taking as an example the protoplasmic layer under
lying the skin, he might say that, while this consists of truly living
units, the cells produced in it, changing into epithelium-scales, become
inert protective structures ; and, pointing to the insensitive nails, hair,
horns, and teeth, arising from this layer, he might show that such
parts, though components of the organism, are hardly living compo
nents. Carrying out the argument, he would contend that elsewhere
in the body there exist such protoplasmic layers, from which grow
the tissues composing the various organs layers which alone remain
fully alive, while the structures evolved from them lose their vitality
in proportion as they are specialized : instancing cartilage, tendon,
and connective tissue, as showing in conspicuous ways this low vital
ity. From all which he would draw the inference that, though the
body forms a coherent whole, its essential units, taken by themselves,
form a whole whicli is coherent only throughout the protoplasmic
layers.

And then would follow the argument that the social organism,
rightly conceived, is much less discontinuous than it seems. He
would contend that, as in the individual organism we include with
the fully living parts the less living and not living parts which co
operate in the total activities, so, in the social organism, we must
include not only those most highly-vitalized units, the human beings,
who chiefly determine its phenomena, but also the various kinds of
domestic animals, lower in the scale of life, which under the control
of man cooperate with him, and even those far inferior structures the
plants, which, propagated by human agency, supply materials for ani
mal and human activities. In defense of this view he would point
out how largely these lower classes of organisms, coexisting with men
in societies, affect the structures and activities of the societies how

SOCIETY AN ORGANISM. 9

the traits of the pastoral type depend on the natures of the creatures
reared ; and how, in settled societies, the plants producing food, mate
rials for textile fabrics, etc., determine certain kinds of social arrange
ments and actions. After which he might insist that, since the physi
cal characters, mental natures, and daily activities, of the human units
are in part moulded by relations to these animals and vegetables
which, living by their aid, and aiding them to live, enter so much into
social life as even to be cared for by legislation, these lower living
things cannot rightly be excluded from the conception of the social
organism. Hence would corne his conclusion that when, with human
beings, are incorporated the less vitalized beings, animal and vege
tal, covering the surface occupied by the society, an aggregate
results having a continuity of parts, more nearly approaching to that
of an individual organism, and which is also like it in being composed
of local aggregations of highly-vitalized units, imbedded in a vast
aggregation of units of various lower degrees of vitality, which are
in a sense produced by, modified by, and arranged by, the higher
units.

But without accepting this view, and admitting that the discrete
ness of the social organism stands in marked contrast with the con-
creteness of the individual organism, the objection may still be ade
quately met.

Though coherence among its parts is a prerequisite to that co
operation by which the life of an individual organism is carried on,
and though the members of a social organism, not forming a con
crete whole, cannot maintain cooperation by means of physical in
fluences directly propagated from part to part, yet they can and do
maintain cooperation by another agency. Not in contact, they never
theless affect one another through intervening spaces, both by emo
tional language, and by the language, oral and written, of the intel
lect. For carrying on mutually dependent actions it is requisite that
impulses, adjusted in their kinds, amounts, and times, shall be con
veyed from part to part. This requisite is fulfilled in living bodies
by molecular waves, that are indefinitely diffused in low types, and
in high types are carried along definite channels (the function of which
has been significantly called internuncial}. It is fulfilled in societies
by the signs of feelings and thoughts, conveyed from person to person;
at first in vague ways and only at short distances, but afterward more
definitely and at greater distances. That is to say, the internuncial
function, not achievable by stimuli physically transferred, is neverthe
less achieved by language.

The mutual dependence of parts which constitutes organization is
thus effectually established. Though discrete instead of concrete, the
social aggregate is rendered a living whole.

But now, on pursuing the course of thought opened by this objec
tion and the answer to it, we arrive at an implied contrast of great

10 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

significance a contrast fundamentally affecting our idea of the ends
to be achieved by social life.

Though the discreteness of a social organism does not prevent sub
division of functions and mutual dependence of parts, yet it does
prevent that differentiation by which one part becomes an organ of
feeling and thought, while other parts become insensitive. High ani
mals, of whatever class, are distinguished from low ones by complex
and well-integrated nervous systems. While in inferior types the
minute scattered ganglia may be said to exist for the benefit of other
structures, the concentrated ganglia in superior types are the struct
ures for the benefit of which the rest may be said to exist. Though
a developed nervous system so directs the actions of the whole body
as to preserve its integrity, yet the welfare of the nervous system is the
ultimate object of all these actions, damage to any other organ being
serious only because it immediately or remotely entails that pain or
loss of pleasure which the nervous system suffers. But the discrete
ness of a society negatives differentiations carried to this extreme.
In an individual organism the minute living units, most of them per
manently localized, growing up, working, reproducing, and dying away
in their respective places, are in successive generations moulded to
their respective functions, so that some become specially sentient and
others entirely insentient. But it is otherwise in a social organism.
The units of this, out of contact and much less rigidly held in their
relative positions, cannot be so much differentiated as to become feel-
ingless units and units which monopolize feeling. There are, indeed,
slight traces of such a differentiation. Human beings are unlike in
the amounts of sensation and emotion producible in them by like
causes : here great callousness, here great susceptibility, is characteris
tic. In the same society, even where its members are of the same race,
and still more where its members are of dominant and subject races,
there exists a contrast of this kind. The mechanically-working and
hard-living units are less sensitive than the mentally-working and
more protected units. But while the regulative structures of the
social organism tend, like those of the individual organism, to become
seats of feeling, the tendency is checked by this want of physical co
hesion which brings fixity of function ; and it is also checked by the
continued need for feeling in the mechanically-working units for the
due discharge of their functions.

Hence, then, a cardinal difference in the two kinds of organisms.
In the one, consciousness is concentrated in a small part of the aggre
gate. In the other, it is diffused throughout the aggregate : all the
units possess the capacities for happiness and misery, if not in equal
degrees, still in degrees that approximate. As, then, there is no social
sensorium, it results that the welfare of the aggregate, considered
apart from that of the units, is not an end to be sought. The society
exists for the benefit of its members ; not its members for the benefit

HAMMERS AND PERCUSSION. n

of the society. It has ever to be remembered that great as may be
the efforts made for the prosperity of the body politic, yet the claims
of the body politic are nothing in themselves, and become something
only in so far as they embody the claims of its component individuals.

From this last consideration, which is a digression rather than a
part of the argument, let us now return and sum up the various reasons
for regarding a society as an organism.

It undergoes continuous growth ; as it grows, its parts, becoming
unlike, exhibit increase of structure ; the unlike parts simultaneously
assume activities of unlike kinds ; these activities are not simply dif
ferent, but their differences are so related as to make one another pos
sible ; the reciprocal aid thus given causes mutual dependence of the
parts ; and the mutually-dependent parts, living by and for one an
other, form an aggregate constituted on the same general principle as
an individual organism. The analogy of a .society to an organism
becomes still clearer on learning that every organism of appreciable
size is a society, and on further learning that, in both, the lives of the
units continue for some time if the life of the aggregate is suddenly
arrested, while if the aggregate is not destroyed by violence its life
greatly exceeds in duration the lives of its units. Though the two are
contrasted as respectively discrete and concrete, and though there
results a difference in the ends subserved by the organization, there
does not result a difference in the laws of the organization : the re
quired mutual influences of the parts, not transmissible in a direct way,
being transmitted in an indirect way.

Having thus considered in their most general forms the reasons for
regarding a society as an organism, we are prepared for following out
the comparison in detail. We shall find that the further we pursue it
the closer does the analogy appear.

HAMMERS AND PERCUSSION.

BY THE REV. AKTHUK EIGG, M. A.

THE only mechanical tools for external use with which man is pro.
vided by Nature are : the hammer, a compound vise, and a
scratching or scraping tool ; these are all in the hand. As a vise, the
hand is worthy of a very lengthened notice ; as a hammer alone it is
now our concern. While upon a substance softer than itself the fist
can deal an appreciable blow, with one harder than itself the reaction
of the substance transfers the blow to the flesh and bone of Nature s
hammer. Hence early arose the necessity of an artificial hammer of
stone or other hard substance.

1 Abstract of three lectures before the London Society of Arts.

12 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Among the contrivances which have come down to us from the
ages before history was written, or the use of metals known, are found
stones shaped, as we may suppose, by the action of water, and so
rounded as to n t the hand. These stones are called by antiquarians
" mauls," and they were probably held in the hand and struck against
objects which otherwise could not have been broken. The maul is the
original form of the hammer. This maul might occasionally have
proved too heavy, but more frequently too light. For that tapping
action which in our minor wants is often more requisite than blows,
our prehistoric ancestors seem to have devised an ingenious appliance
consisting of a stone specially prepared for this somewhat delicate
operation. (Fig. 1.)

FIG. 1. TAPPING-HAMMER or STONE.

This is supposed to be one of these tapping-hammers, held between
a finger and the thumb ; the original bears traces of wear, as if it had
been employed in striking against a cylindrical or sharp surface.

When, now, we pass from this light to very heavy work, it will be
obvious that to hold a stone in the hollow of the hand, and to strike an
object with it so that the reaction of the blow shall be mainly met by the
muscular action of the back of the hand, and the thinnest section of the
wrist, would be not only fatiguing, but might be injurious to the deli
cate network of muscles there found, and so damage this part of the
hand. It may have been from such effects that even in the Stone age
there are traces of mauls which have double ends and are held by the
middle. A blow given by such is counteracted not only by the in
creased mass of material, but also by the changed position of the hand
and wrist in relation to the direction of the blow. When held in the
hollow of the hand, the reaction was met by (say) a depth of tissue of
about three-quarters of an inch, but, when held as the maul now alluded
to must have been held, this reaction is met by a depth of tissue of
about three inches. Hence, while mechanically (owing to the mass of
stone) and muscularly (owing to the position of the hand in reference
to the direction of the blow) the maul in this second stage is a decided
improvement upon its primitive form, we cannot but admit that ex
perience would soon suggest that even thus there was wanting suffi
cient energy to overcome reactions, and that the double-headed maul
might be improved.

HAMMERS AND PERCUSSION. 13

The men of the Stone age early perceived the advantage of having
a handle of some kind for their mauls, and doubtless their first expe
dient consisted in lashing withes around such mauls as were found
suitable, as the blacksmith at the present day lashes withes round the
heads of his cutting and punching tools and swages. Evidences of a
further advance toward a perfect hammer are to be seen in stone
mauls with holes through them suitable for handles ; and these holes
are in some instances coned, and as well adapted for hammer-handles
as the best-made metal tools of our day.

FIG. 2. PERFORATED HAMMEB-HEAD OF STONE.

Before inquiring into the reasons which may have led to the adop
tion of the various materials and forms of hammers now in use, it will
be well to consider the hammer in, and of, and by itself. We are so
apt to look upon it as a rude implement, necessarily associated with a
superior class of finishing-tools, that the materials, forms, and scientific
principles involved in its construction and use, not only as an adjunct
to other tools, but as a sole independent and final tool, are much over
looked.

In some handicrafts, and those too involving a high class of finished
work, the hammer is the only tool employed. That great artistic

i 4 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

skill in the use of the hammer as a finishing-tool can be acquired, is
manifest from the many beautiful specimens of r epouss e work to be
seen in silversmiths shops. The details of the ornamentation are not
only minute, but they so harmonize as to give elegance and expres
sion to the whole, exclusive of the form of the articles themselves.
The variety of shape is mainly produced by changes in the form of
the " pane " of the hammer and in the weight of it. These changes
of " pane " are sometimes effected by separating the pane from the
hammer, and then the separated piece is called a " punch."

The famous shield of Achilles, in the " Iliad " of Homer, is described
as the result of hammer-work ; and, though this shield may not have
been actually fashioned, nevertheless the description gives an idea of
what a hammer was in early times poetically supposed to be capable
of accomplishing. The scenes wrought upon the shield of Achilles
are 1. The earth, sea, and heavenly bodies. 2. In a city at peace
there are (a.) Marriage festivities ; (6.) Judicial suit or trial. 3. In a
city at war there are (a.) A scene before the ramparts ; (b.) An ambush
and surprise ; (c.) A bloody fight. 4. The ploughing of a field. 5.
The harvest and the meal in preparation. 6. The vintage, with music
and a march. 7. A herd of cattle attacked by lions. 8. Sheep at
pasture, and their folds. 9. A dance. 10. The great ocean-river encom
passing the whole, as, in the mind of Homer, it encompassed the earth.
For examples of the use of hammers in the production of works of
great variety and extent on a large scale, see the ancient hammered
wrought-iron gates, hinges, and panels, in the architectural room in
the South Kensington Museum ; also the suits of mail and chain-armor
in the Tower of London ; also the formation of gold-leaf, the springs
of carriages, and the stiffening of saw-plates.

FIG. 3.

FIG. 4. FIG. 5.

ENGINEER S HAMMERS.

FIG

The nature of the work to be done by hammers calls for very great
differences, not only in the form, material, and weight of the hammer-
head, but also in the appendages to these. There are the material

HAMMERS AND PERCUSSION. 15

and form of the handles, the angle at which these handles should in
tersect the axial line of the hammer-head, the position of the centre
of gravity with respect to the intersection of this axial line, the length
and elasticity of the handle. If the centre of gravity is not in the
central line or longitudinal axis of the hammer-head, then there is a
tendency to bring the hammer down on the edge of the face and not
on the face. If this defective construction were great, the muscles of
the wrist might not be strong enough to counteract the tendency.
If the defective construction is slight, then the work is often marked
with angular indents. Arrangements, too, may be required for modi
fying the intensity of the blow, while retaining the effects resulting
from a heavy hammer where a light one would be inefficient.

It is curious to see how in the same trade the hammers are for dif
ferent purposes made of different materials. The engineer, for exam
ple, uses hammers faced with steel hardened, the stone-breaker (or
mineralogist) hammers faced with steel softened (or rather not hard
ened). Again, in another part of his progressive work, the steel ham
mer with which the engineer commenced his operations gives place to
a bronze or copper one, and this is sometimes displaced by one of lead
alloyed with tin, and the handle entirely discarded.

FIG. 7.

FIG. a

FIG. 9.

FIG. 10.

PLUMBER S HAMMERS.

The plumber dismisses all these, and for direct action upon the
material employed in his trade he uses a hammer of wood, discarding
not only the material but also the form of hammers used in allied
crafts. Indeed, one of his hammers (Fig. 7) serves a double purpose,
for, if at one moment it is a hammer, at the next it is used as a swage.
Fig. 9 is his ordinary hammer, but when carrying on his allied trade
of a glazier, not content with this, even the handle (Fig. 10) is finished

16 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

in an unusual manner, probably for convenience in holding putty,
which he often carries " dabbed " on the handle. In some cases, as in
the working of copper vessels which have been silver-plated or gilt,
the coats of the precious metals are so thin that, although the weight
of a hammer-head is required, yet even the wooden hammer of the
plumber, or the still softer leaden hammer of the engineer, is equally
unsuitable, and therefore the workers in these metals cover the face
of their hammers at times with one or more layers of cloth.

The veneering hammer is compound, one end being formed of
metal and the other of wood. The metal end is used as a squeezing-
hammer (if such a term may be employed), and the wooden end as a
tapping-hammer, to ascertain by the sound produced where the veneer
ing is adhering and where it is not.

FIG. 11. MASON S HAMMER-HEAD.

The stone-mason seems to claim a universal choice. As to mate
rial, he has and frequently uses hammers made of wood, of iron (steel-
faced), and of an alloy of lead.

In some cases the hammer and the anvil mutually change places,
the hammer of wood, the anvil of metal, or the converse. Nor is the

FIG. 12.- CARPENTER S WOODEN MALLET.

wood always of the same character. As varied as are the characters
of the woods themselves, so varied are those chosen by different crafts
for the employment of each craft.

Hammers with and without handles are in use hammers of various
weights, from half an ounce to ten pounds, and from fifteen to fifty-six
pounds are now employed as hand-hammers. The angles of attach

ment of handles to heads are various : the position of the centre of
gravity of the head in reference to the line of penetration of the handle

J various; the faces have various convexities; the panes have all

ranges and forms, from the hemispherical end of the engineer s ham-

er, and the sharpened end of the pick and tomahawk, to the curved

HAMMERS AND PERCUSSION. 17

sharpened edge of the adze, or the straight convex edge of the hatchet
and axe ; the panes make all angles with the plane in which the ham
mer mov 7 es.

FIG. 15. COOPER S CLAW-HAMMER.

FIGS. 13, 14. BOILER-MAKER S HAMMERS-

FIG. 16, SHIP-CARPENTER S CLAW-HAMMER

Fig. 16 is a ship-carpenter s hammer-head with claw. It differs
from ordinary claw-hammers in that the handle is not strapped. In
some American claw-hammers the strapping is carried up the back and

FIG. 17. COACH-TRIMMER S HAMMER-HEAD.

front of the hammer. Why this change has been made is not very
apparent, for by it one strap that nearest the claw is in tension,
while the other is in compression. With the straps on the sides, as in
Figs.18, 19, the tension is equal on both. Fig. 15 is a cooper s claw-

FIG. 18. SLATER S HAMMER.

hammer, not strapped. In these cases, if much power is required
when the claw is used, it should be applied by pressure on the fae-
end of the hammer as well as upon the handle.

VOL. IX. 2

i8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Before considering the elements upon a combination of which the
powers of hand-hammers depend, it will be well to remark upon the
circumstances under which this power is actually developed. The
development takes place at the instant of contact of the moving
hammer with the struck body. Such contacts as those of hammers

FIG. 19. TOMAHAWK -HAMMEK.

belong to that department of mechanical philosophy called "impact."
Impact is pressure of short duration so short that, compared with the
time in which the velocity of the impinging body is being acquired,
it is inappreciable ; or, if the comparison be between spaces passed
through by the hammer-head before impact and during impact, then,
generally speaking, the disproportion is the same, and the space passed
through after impact is almost inappreciable when compared with the
space passed through before impact.

It may assist in realizing the source as well as the magnitude of
the power of a hammer, if the dynamical effect of impact be compared
with what may be called the statical effect of pressure. Let any one
attempt to drive a nail vertically into an horizontal piece of timber by
the statical effect of the simple pressure of a load placed gently on the
head, as weights are laid in scale-pans. Let the depth to which the nail
is thus moved be measured. Again, let the same nail, under the same
circumstances, be driven to the same depth by the impact of a ham
mer-head, then it may for our present purpose be said that the load
placed on the nail is a representative statical measure of the impact
of the hammer.

Now, although in any given case the work in a hammer consequent
on its mass and velocity may be very great, yet utilizing the whole
of the work produced in the expenditure of the accumulated power
in the hammer depends upon the resistance met with at the instant
of impact. The more perfect this resistance is, the greater will be
the value of the work done; hence the practice of using massive
anvils, firmly fixed, and the necessity for staying all vibrations in the
body struck. Let any one attempt to drive a nail in a board not
firmly supported, and then by the use of the same means drive a simi
lar nail into the same board supported, and he will appreciate the im
portance of resistance to the progress of a hammer s motion if the full
effect of a blow be desired.

HAMMERS AND PERCUSSION. 19

The only exception to this is to be found in the blows given to
minerals which are to be cleft, and not crushed. In their case it is
desired to give only such a blow as shall accomplish the cleaving ; any
surplusage of energy, if expended on the material, would, of course,
produce fractures over and above the required cleavage. Provision
must be made for the dissipation of this superfluous energy, and it is
done by placing the mineral in an elastic holding, the nature of the
required elasticity being determined by experience, as different sub
stances require different elasticities in the supports by which they are
held for cleavage. Illustrations of the principle here enunciated are
seen in the breaking of stones on the highway, where the elasticity is
transferred from the mineral support to the handle of the hammer;
also in the flaking of flints, where the elasticity is obtained by holding
the mineral in the hand and supporting it on the knees. The splitting
of the diamond is a case where these principles and considerations
claim the greatest care.

The anvil used by the diamond-splitter is of wood, in shape not
unlike a ninepin, but tapered at the lower end so as to be placed up
right in a coned hole in a small block of lead. On the head of the
ninepin is a flat, on which, by means of cement, the diamond to be
split can be firmly fixed. Placed here so that the plane of intended
cleavage shall be vertical when the wooden anvil is in the lead block,
a deep scratch is made by a second diamond, in which scratch the
edge of the splitter s chisel is to be planted. The diamond-splitter s
chisel is very like an old razor. This chisel the workman holds in his
left hand, in his right he holds that which is his hammer. The hammer
is a plain steel rod, about eight inches in length, and tapering from
about half an inch diameter in the middle to three-quarters of an inch
at the end. The very construction of this peculiar hammer gives the
operator a large range for precise and graduated blows ; within certain
limits he can most carefully arrange that the path of the centre of
percussion, the place of impact, the line bisecting the angle of his
razor-like chisel, and the expected plane of cleavage of the diamond,
shall coincide ; hence, with great coolness and the absence of all hesi
tation, he gives a blow, upon the effect of which many hundreds of
pounds may depend.

In dealing with hammers including under that term for the pres
ent purpose axes, hatchets, adzes, and picks the following question
claims consideration : What power or energy is in a hammer of known
weight, moving at a -known velocity, if brought to a state of rest by
impact on a block ? Another question also suggests itself: Can this
impact effect of a hammer be converted into simple pressure, and be
stated as a load or weight placed, where the impact was requisite, to
produce the same effect as the impact did? If the mode of solving
the first question can be made clear, then the answer to the second
can be easilv obtained. The measurable elements which affect the

20

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

result are a variation in the mass of the hammer-head, and a variation
in the length of the handle. By a varied mass there is a varied weight
in the hammer; by a varied length of handle there will, with the same
muscular effort, be a varied velocity in this mass, and upon a combina
tion of mass and velocity depends the produced energy. Now, if a
mass of metal, moving at a known velocity, strike an object, the ener
gy of that blow results entirely from the conditions at the moment
of impact. For example, the work in the hammer, jET, as it strikes the
nail, N (Fig. 20), does not depend upon its velocity through the arc,

FIG. 20.

Q JV", but only upon the velocity when commencing contact with the
nail. Hence, so long as the material which gives the blow and the
mass of it are the same, it is not of any consequence how the velocity
was accumulated. It may result from centrifugal or rectilinear action
it may result from muscular effort, or from steam-pressure, or from
gravity.

It may now be obvious that, other elements remaining unchanged,
whatever accelerates the velocity of a hammer increases, according to
very clear rules, the energy or power of the same hammer. Hence
the tendency of contrivances, as manifested in the addition to steam
as well as handicraft hammers ; for example, in the early lift-hammers,

McCOSH IN REPLY TO CARPENTER. 2 \

those which are by many still considered to produce the most per
fect of hammered work, the " wiper " was so shaped as to throw the
hammer very high. The ascent- was checked by a powerful spring,
and thus the. ascensional energy was reversed and added to the accel
erating force of gravity downward ; and so not only was the intensity
of the blows increased, but their frequency also. This spring took
the place of that muscular energy which brought the hammer down
with intensified effect.

Hence, also, in steam-hammers, all muscular effect to intensify the
blow is transferred to the steam, and all consequences of centrifugal
action, whether from hand or tilt hammers at the ends of arms, are
removed. Further, in steam-hammers nowadays, the steam operates
to check as well as to intensify the blow. This checking action is
called " cushioning," and it seems to do what an elastic handle does
in a sledge-hammer: it relieves the rigid fabric or erection from jar
or destruction. " Cushioning " is brought into play by admitting steam
for the purpose of checking the intensity of the blow due to the action
of gravity alone, or of steam combining with gravity upon the ham
mer. Hence the perfect control over large steam or air worked ham
mers, and the rapidity with which the intensity of the blow may be
changed. Such control as this over a sledge-hammer is beyond our
bodily powers. We may intensify the blow, but we cannot, except
just experimentally, and for the purpose of display, bring the restrain
ing power of the muscles to diminish the energy of the descending
hammer. Journal of the Society of Arts.

PREPOSSESSIONS FOE AND AGAINST THE SUPER
NATURAL.

A CRITICISM OF DR. CARPENTER.
BY JAMES McCOSH, LL. D.,

PRESIDE XT OF PRINCETON COLLEGE.

DR. CARPENTER is master of the domain which he has appropri
ated for the last age, that of physiology. He has done more than
any living man, not exactly to advance, but to combine and expound,
the discovered truths of his science. But he is ever impelled by his in
tellectual sharpness and his cultivated tastes to take excursions into
other regions, and I am not sure whether he has there been so success
ful. In particular, as dwelling so near the territory of mind, he has ever
been crossing into it. He has made a very careful survey of the bor
der-country, and given us the result in his valuable work "Mental
Physiology." Ever since the paimy days of mesmerism and table-

22 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

turning, he has been enlarging on that "expectancy " and " preposses
sion " which have been so perverting the vision of many in their ob
servation of facts. He will not be offended with me if I hint that it is
just possible that he himself may unconsciously be under the influence
of these, when, on finding how much can be explained by physiologi
cal processes, he imagines he can account in the same way for purely
mental operations.

On some points Dr. Carpenter has been vigorously opposing the
materialism of the day : " In reducing the thinking man to the level of
a puppet, that moves according as its strings are pulled, the material
istic philosopher places himself in complete antagonism to the positive
conviction, which, like that of the existence of an external world, is felt
by every right-minded man, who does not trouble himself by speculat
ing upon the matter, that he realty does possess a self-determining
power, which can rise above all the promptings of suggestion, and can,
within certain limits, mould external circumstances to its own re
quirements instead of being completely subjugated by them." ("Men
tal Physiology," 5.) By such utterances, worthy of the son of Lant
Carpenter, of Bristol, he has gained the confidence of a number of
anti-materialistic and religious men, who may find, however, that he
is conducting them into a place between two armies where they are
exposed to the fire of both. At this point he has been abandoned by
the disciples of Bain, Huxley, and Tyndall, by M. Ribot, and the
writers in the Revue /Scientifique, the organ of the school in France
who wonder that he should stop where he has. For, if material agency
can generate so much, can account for imagination and genius gener
ally, can explain our higher intellectual efforts of judgment and rea
soning, can fashion conscience and gender the obligation of duty and
the sense of guilt, and our reverence for the unseen and the sublime,
why may it not also produce will, an operation evidently so swayed by
causes ? They who follow Dr. Carpenter will soon find that they have
very insecure footing, and must either go forward and identify will,
as they do intelligence, with material agency, or retreat so far back
as to hold that there are many other operations, such as the discern
ment of higher truth and higher goodness, which cannot be derived
from atoms. If there be such an agent as will and I agree with Dr.
Carpenter in thinking that consciousness testifies in its behalf then
we must provide a compartment for it, and we may place there reason
and our ideas of the good, the infinite, and the perfect.

Dr. Carpenter s views of the attributes of the mind seem to me to
be very inadequate. They were formed about the time when Hart
ley s " Observations on Man " and James Mill s " Analysis of the Hu
man Mind" were reckoned the highest authorities among the Unita
rians who felt Priestley s influence. Dr. Carpenter evidently looks
upon the operations of the mind as composed of sensations and ide
ations. His view of both these is very insufficient. In all sense-per-

MoCOSH IN- REPLY TO CARPENTER. 23

ception, there is more than mere sensation considered as a feeling ;
there is knowledge of something extended. Then along with every
perception there is consciousness of self as perceiving. According to
the school of James Mill, sensation is a mere feeling, and ideation is
a reproduced sensation. Memories, imaginations, conceptions, are all
ideations ; nay, judgments and reasonings are only combined ideations.
The sense of duty is the product of association of ideations founded
on sensations of pleasure and pain. Dr. Carpenter proceeds, in fact, on
this psychology. But, to his credit, he draws back at a certain point.
He stands up resolutely for a self-determining will which he places
above both sensation and ideation. When asked for his proof, he ap
peals very legitimately to a " conviction " felt by every mind. But a
like conviction certifies that there is vastly more than he sees in oper
ations which he has passed over so lightly ; that in memory the idea
of time is involved, as every thing is remembered as happening in
time past ; that in imagination there is a wonderful arranging power ;
in conception, a grouping power ; and in judgment, the discovery of
relations such as those of identity, of quantity, and cause and effect,
all diving deep into the depth of things, while the conscience gives us
an entirely new idea, that of good and evil, and makes us feel that we
owe duties to God and our fellow-men. He who overlooks these at
tributes may imagine that he can identify mental operations with
physiological; but it is simply because he has not noticed the char
acteristic attributes of the human mind.

Dr. Carpenter did essential service to science, to religion, and I
may add to common-sense, by exposing the alleged evidence in behalf
of mesmerism an-d table-turning. He showed that, in regard to these
phenomena, there were a " prepossession " and an " expectancy " which
led persons to believe and affirm, without any valid proof, that they
witnessed certain actions. I cannot see, however, that Dr. Carpenter
has here unfolded any new truth, or that he has explained the nature
of this "expectancy" certainly no light can be thrown upon it by
physiology. It is to be accounted for by purely mental causes, by a
hasty judgment into which people are led by the association of ideas,
guided by the wishes or feelings of the heart. If we have been accus
tomed to see two tilings together, on one of them presenting itself we
are apt to look for the other, and believe that this other is present
when we have no valid proof. It is thus that, associating the standing
on a steep precipice with a fall, many tremble when placed there, even
though there be no real danger. It is thus we account for the appar
ent deception of the senses. We rapidly infer that an object seen
across an arm of the sea or a level plain is near, following the rule,
usually correct, that an object is near when there are few visible
objects between us and it. It is thus that a countryman, seated,
and, as he feels, at rest, on a vessel leaving the quay, momentarily rea
sons that the quay is moving, as he has found that when he is at rest

24 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the object whose image passes over his eye is in motion. It is thus
that when a person has come to us habitually at a certain hour, say
the postman to deliver our letters, we may readily take some other
person who appears at the time for him, and be ready to affirm or to
swear that we saw him. It is thus that " the wish is father to the
thought;" that is, we are inclined to believe what we wish and ex
pect. It is thus, too, that in times of excitement, personal, political,
and religious, we readily fall in with the fancies created by our fears
and our hopes. Not only so, but a vivid idea reaching down from the
brain may produce the same effect on the sensorium as the external
object does through the sense of sight or hearing. Dr. Carpenter
has seized an important truth in explaining in this w T ay the erroneous
declarations given by honest enough persons believing in mesmerism
and spirit-rapping, and ever seeking for signs and wonders. He is
right, too, in explaining how strong religious feelings may raise illu
sory expectations and beliefs, and that the testimony given by per
sons under their influence may be partial or valueless.

I think I discover proof that even scientific men may fall under
the influence of this " prepossession " and " expectancy." I see an
example of it in the way in which many of them account for our
thoughts and resolutions : they call them reflex action. The discovery
of the nature of automatic motion was one of the most important dis
coveries of the last age. An action goes along a nerve to the centre
of a ganglion, and comes out in motion by another nerve : thus, if a
frog s foot is pricked, it is immediately drawn in. Of much the same
kind is the reflex action of the sensori-motor system. My nostrils are
affected by a pungent substance, the action goes on to the sensorium,
and a sneeze is the reult. So far we have a well-understood process.
But can we go on to explain in this way our special mental acts ? The
language used by some physiologists is fitted to leave the impression
that all mental action is the reflex of some action from without, proba
bly a sensation. Let us look at a case. I receive a letter informing
me that a friend at a distance is in deep distress, needs me to defend
him by my presence, my purse, and my counsel, against a. false accu
sation, and I hasten to his assistance. Is all this merely a reflex ac
tion called forth by the appeal in the letter ? Let us carefully inquire
how much and how little physiology can explain. It can show how
the writing in the letter, after passing through the eye, is reflected on
the retina, thence carried through the optic nerve to the sensorium,
thence it may be transmitted to the gray matter at the periphery of
the brain, and produce there, it may be, some motion or new ar
rangement of the cells. But it can go no farther. When I under
stand the letter, when I comprehend the position of my friend, when .
I conclude that the accusation against him is false, when I feel that I
ought to assist him, and for this purpose travel a long way and make
many sacrifices, we have come to processes that cannot be explained

McCOSH IN REPLY TO CARPENTER. 25

by any external impulse ; which can as little be accounted for by reflex
action as they could by gravity or by chemical affinity. Then there
are cases in which the action originates within, with no prompting
from without. I awake in the morning and I think and conclude that
some good cause, the cause of liberty, or of my country, or of religion,
requires me to take a bold, decisive action, and I hasten to put my
purpose in execution. How absurd to call this, with some physiolo
gists, a reflex action ! That able men should have fallen into this error
can only be accounted for by a law of " expectancy ; " they have ex
plained so much by their law, and they think that they can explain
everything.

Dr. Carpenter has unfolded, as Hume had done a century ago, the
tendencies which predispose man to believe in preternatural occur
rences. But are there no " prepossessions " and " expectations " which
incline some scientific men in the present day to account for all things
by natural agency, and prejudice them against calling in any thing
preternatural ? The business of science is to look into the causes of
obvious or recondite phenomena, and, proceeding in the right method,
they have discovered the natural causes of events which many re
garded as supernatural. The men who have explained lightning
and mysterious diseases, and resolved light into vibrations, and
detected the composition of the sun s atmosphere, and of the distant
stars, are led to spurn at the very idea of there being any thing which
cannot be accounted for by mundane agency. Then they have seen,
or heard, or read, of so many cases of religious pretension and impost
ure that they at once set down every reported case of divine inter
position to illusion or delusion. Some have gone the length of main
taining that a miracle is not only an improbability, but an impossi
bility. A " prepossession " is produced, an " expectancy " is created,
that the miracles of Scripture may be solved by some natural means.
In the last age Paulus labored to prove that Jesus accomplished his
cures by taking advantage of the secret agencies of Nature. But this
theory has long ago been set aside by every one as inconsistent with
the training, the position, and known character of Jesus. Then the
mythic theory was started and stretched to its utmost capacity by
Strauss ; but it has been shown that no myths ever had the con
sistency, the purity, the spirituality of the gospel narratives, parables,
and doctrines. Now it is averred that historical proof is wanting of
the early date of the books of the New Testament. This objection
has been met already by the great scholars of Germany, and is being
met by Dr. Lightfoot and others among English-speaking divines.
It is shown and is admitted that some of the epistles of Paul must
have been written by their reputed author, and that they presuppose
a belief throughout the Church of the leading events in Christ s life,
and of a perfected system of evangelical belief. If. the epistles are
genuine, so must be the correlated Book of Acts, with its wonderful

26 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

story of the spread of the gospel, the only "working hypothesis " to
explain the facts. The synoptics bear internal marks of being genu
ine ; give a consistent tale to account for the state of things as detailed
by Paul and the Book of Acts; and have external testimony accumu
lating in their favor, derived especially from the controversies with
the early heretics. Even John s gospel is brought within a hundred
years of our Lord s death, almost certainly in the first century, is
shown to be as little inconsistent with the synoptics as Plato s Socra
tes is with Xenophon s Socrates, and breathes an air so superior to
that of the Apostolic Fathers, that we see the one to be heaven-de
scended, the other to be the product of imperfect human nature at a
time when the minds of Christians were saturated with divine truth.
It is clear that the "expectancy" of accounting for the life of Christ
by human causes has not yet been realized. " The Bible," as Beza
said, "is an anvil which has worn out many hammers."

Every one knows that all men, scientific and unscientific, are lia
ble to be swayed by prejudice, and Dr. Carpenter has not been able
to throw much light on this subject by physiology. Even mathema
ticians may have their " personal equation." Philosophers, so called,
and scientists have fallen under the influence of the idols of Bacon,
and not a few other idols which have been set up since his time. His
torical investigators, judges, and juries, are all aware of its existence,
and should guard against it. We meet with it in our daily inter
course with our fellow-men, and make allowance for it. We see it in the
village parties, in political contests, and in the rivalries of rank and
trade. To every reality there is a counterfeit ; corresponding to ev
ery truth there is a false appearance ; if there be one Jehovah, there
are many idols. Many, when they look to the dust of the conflict,
are tempted to conclude that Truth cannot be found. But, notwith
standing all this, Truth can be found and won by those who court her
in the right manner and the right spirit. It is to be remembered,
however, that while we are required to demand evidence before yield
ing our conviction, all evidence is not of the same kind. " I receive
mathematics," said Goethe, " as the most sublime and useful science
as long as they are applied in their proper place ; but I cannot com
mend the misuse of them in matters which do not belong to their
sphere, and in which, noble science as they are, they seem to be mere
nonsense, as if, forsooth, things only exist when they can be mathe
matically demonstrated ! It would be foolish for a man not to believe
in his mistress s love because she could not prove it to him mathemati
cally. She can mathematically prove her dowry, but not her love."
Some scientists in our day are insisting that every thing, even in his
tory, morals, and religion, is to be settled by experiment and calcu
lation, and would place all truth under the microscope subject it to
the blowpipe, and express it in statistics and they do not see that
the highest truth escapes in the process. The defenders of religion

McCOSH IN REPLY TO CARPENTER. ^ 1

maintain that in religion a sincere mind will discover the truth with
or without scientific knowledge. Many believe that John Bunyan saw
as far into spiritual matters as even Newton or Locke, and much far
ther than Laplace ever did. Some of the highest statesmen and law
yers in Great Britain imagined that they could get more good from
the direct and homely appeals of Moody than from those select dilet-
tant meetings in London of savants and litterateurs who have aban
doned Christianity, and are seeking to catch some higher religion
which evanishes as they would lay hold of it.

Everybody acknowledges that all witnesses are not to be trusted ;
yet in the common affairs of life, in trials, in history, we do find tes
timony which we implicitly believe. To the great body even of edu
cated men, scientific knowledge depends on the trustworthiness of
those who have made the observations and experiments. Notwith
standing all their preconceptions, there are declarations of men of
science as to matters of fact which we can trust ; and it would be a
violation of their whole nature, in fact it would be a miracle, were they
to deceive us. Dr. Carpenter is entitled to credit for having helped
to expose the fooleries and the rogueries of spirit-rapping, rope-tying,
and of levitation. But he seems to think that it is possible by the
same method to undermine the miracles of the Old and New Testa
ments. All who have inquired carefully into the subject see that the
testimony in favor of spiritualistic manifestations cannot stand the
common tests of evidence. But it has been maintained by many of
the greatest and most sagacious minds, and by the highest moral
minds which our world has produced, that the testimony in behalf of
the essential events of the New Testament cannot be set aside with
out undermining the whole of ancient history. Even at first sight the
spiritual seances and performers have no moral prestige in their favor.
The products are unworthy of God, and inconsistent with his mode c
operation in Nature. We can discover motives enough to iiulu
them to act as they do such as the desire to create wonder with
some the hope of getting money. How different with our Lord, who,
so far from taking advantage of the wonder-loving spirit of the Je
actually restrained it ! The wonders of the spiritualists are perfo
in rooms prepared for the purpose or in darkness, whereas
acles of our Lord were performed in open day, in unexpect
stances, and before all men. Then the whole teaching of Jesi
totally above and altogether opposed to the spirit of his age anc
tion, and only exposed him and his followers to opprobrium, po^

and suffering.

But Dr. Carpenter has discovered that there is no stronger evi
dence in behalf of the events of our Lord s life than we have in ft
the miracles attributed to St. Columba. This is a proof that, ai
multifarious employments, Dr. Carpenter has not carefully s -veyed
or minutely examined the whole body of Christian evidences.

28 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

only original life of Columba is the " Yita " of Abbot Adamnan, written
about one hundred years after the saint s death. All that it proves is,
that at the time the life was written Columba was believed to have
wrought miracles. But there is satisfactory proof that the first gos
pels were written while many who had seen the events were still
alive. The account given by the abbot was all in accordance with
the popular belief, and had not, like the earlier Christian records, to
encounter the hostile criticism of keen and able opponents. The
voice of the Irish dove was a very, pleasant one, but all the good
words uttered were got from him on whom the spirit alighted as a
dove. We have no utterances of his to be compared with the teach
ings of our Lord and his disciples. Then we have no record of such
lives and sacrifices as are described in the letter of Pliny the Younger
in A. D. 112. Nor have we such corroborations as the Book of Acts,
such original productions as the Epistles of Paul, such a mighty re
sult as Christianity with its influence over the world, over its educa
tion and its civilization, for the last eighteen hundred years.

Dr. Carpenter quotes Locke as saying that we are to regard the
doctrine as proving the miracle rather than the miracle proving the
doctrine. Locke believed both the doctrine and the miracle. Dr.
Carpenter does not tell us whether he believes either. He does not
say whether he looks on the doctrine as proving the miracle. The
wisest defenders of Christianity have always combined the two, the
lofty teaching and the high morality, with the attested supernatural
action. In estimating the validity of even common testimony we
combine the character of the witness with the facts to which he de
pones. We look to his manner of testifying, to the consistency and
transparency of his statements, even to the name he has borne among
his associates and the motives by which he may have been swayed.
So in weighing the evidence we have for Christianity we are entitled
to combine the truth testified to with the testimony. We do not
choose to separate the record of miracles in Matthew from the Sermon
on the Mount. We are prepared to believe that he who uttered those
bold and transparently sincere and pure precepts could not have been
guilty of deceit. It is clear that Jesus claimed supernatural power. If
there be any truth at all in the accounts of him, in fact, if there ever
was such a person as Jesus, it is clear that he claimed to work miracles.
His claims are found imbedded in the heart of discourses which con
tain his loftiest ideas, moral and spiritual, far beyond the concep
tion of the evangelists or the early Christian writers. His discourses
are, in fact, his greatest miracle. His acts and words are like the
warp and woof of his garment, which is woven throughout and can
not be divided.

The doctrines, the precepts, the providential occurrences, the mir
acles, constitute a system quite as much as the Cosmos does. In this
system one part supports another, each helps to bear up the whole, and

McCOSH IN REPLY TO CARPENTER, ^

the whole makes every part cohere. He who assails Christianity Las
to attack a phalanx. The pure morality fits in to the character of
God, revealed as a spirit, revealed as light, revealed as love. The
miracles, being almost all of them meant to remove evil, most of them
to heal diseases, adapt themselves to the manifest disorder in the
world, to our consciousness of sin, and the doctrine which reveals an
atonement. The supernatural system is higher than the natural, but
it is in accordance with it. The higher joins on beautifully to the
lower quite as fittingly as vegetable life superinduces itself on inani
mate Nature, as animal life completes vegetable life, as the soul fits
into the body. Science and philosophy may not be able to go back
to a beginning, but they require a source. It is not more certain that
" ex nihilo nihil fit " than it is that what produces must have power to
produce. AIL these later discussions as to force and cause show that
there must be some intimate connection between the effect and its
cause. Mayer wrought out the grand doctrine of the conservation
of force by the principle that " cause equals effect." This is not,
as it appears to me, the correct expression of the law, but it points
to a deep law lying at the basis of that development which men
are studying so eagerly in the present day. All that is in the effect
has come from the causes it may be the successive causes. We
are thus carried back to an inherent power, not created by develop
ment, but the source or spring of development. This source may
surely be declared supernatural. The Bible simply speaks of the con
tinuance of that supernatural in revelation and in inspiration. This
supernatural is not inconsistent with the natural; it is the comple
ment of it. The higher world overarches the lower world as the sky
does the earth. The world to come consummates what is begun in
the present world provides a place for the immortal soul, arid for the
body raised to join it.

The conclusion of the whole matter is, that we are to weigh the
evidence in behalf of revelation in the same way as we weigh any
other evidence, laying aside all " prepossessions " and " expectancies "
for and against supernaturalism ; and that the evidence for Christian
ity, so large, so varied, so compact, is not to be summarily set aside
by any physiological doctrine sufficient to explain mesmerism and
spirit-rapping.

3 c THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

LESSONS IN ELECTRICITY. 1

HOLIDAY LECTURES AT THE ROYAL INSTITUTION.

BY PBOF. TYNDALL, F. E. S.

II.

SECTION 8. Electrics and Non- Electrics. For a long period,
bodies were divided into electrics and. non-electrics, the former
deemed capable of being electrified, the latter not. Thus the amber
of the ancients, and the spars, gems, fossils, stones, glasses, and resins,
operated on by Dr. Gilbert, were electrics, while all the metals were
non-electrics. We must now determine the true meaning of this dis
tinction.

Take in succession a ball of brass, of wood coated with tin-foil, a
lead bullet, and an apple, in the hand, and strike them briskly with
silk, flannel, or the fox s brush ; none of them will attract the balanced
lath (Fig. 4), or show any other symptom of electric excitement. All
of them, therefore, would have been once called non-electrics.

But suspend them.in succession by a string of silk held in the hand,
and strike them again ; every one of them will now attract the lath.

Reflect upon the meaning of this experiment. We have introduced
an insulator the silk string between the hand and the body struck,
and we find that by its introduction the non-electric has been con
verted into an electric.

The meaning is obvious. When held in the hand, though elec
tricity was developed in each case by the friction, it passed imme
diately through the hand and body to the earth. This transfer being
prevented by the silk, the electricity, once excited, is retained, and
the attraction of the lath is the consequence.

In like manner, a brass tube, held in the hand and struck with a
fox s brush, shows no attractive power ; but when a stick of sealing-
wax, ebonite, or gutta-percha, is thrust into the tube as a handle, the
striking of the tube at once develops the power of attraction.

And now you see, more clearly than you did at first, the meaning
of the experiment with the heated foolscap and India-rubber. Paper
and wood always imbibe a certain amount of moisture from the air.
When the rubber was passed over the cold paper, electricity was
excited, but the paper, being rendered a conductor by its moisture,
allowed the electricity to pass away.

Prove all things. Lay your cold foolscap on a cold board, sup
ported by warm dry tumblers ; pass your India-rubber over the pa
per ; lift it by a loop of silk, for if you touch it it will discharge itself.

1 A course of six lectures, with simple experiments in frictional electricity, before
juvenile audiences during the Christmas holidays.

LESSONS IN ELECTRICITY. 3 ,

You will find it electric ; and with it you can charge your electro
scope, or attract from a distance your "balanced lath.

The human body was ranked among the non-electrics. Make plain
to yourself the reason. Stand upon the floor and permit a friend to
strike you briskly with the fox s brush. Present your knuckle to the
balanced lath, you will find no attraction. Here, however, you stand
upon the earth, so that even if electricity had been developed, there
is nothing to hinder it from passing away.

But, place upon the ground four warm glass tumblers, and upon
the tumblers a board. Stand upon the board, and present your
knuckle to the lath. A- single stroke of the fox s fur, if skillfully
given, will produce attraction. If you stand upon a cake of resin,
of ebonite, or upon a sheet of good India-rubber, the effect will be
the same.

Throw a mackintosh over your shoulders, and let a friend strike it
with the fox s brush, the attractive force is greatly augmented.

After brisk striking, present your knuckle to the knuckle of your
friend. A spark will pass between you.

This experiment with the mackintosh further illustrates what you
have already frequently observed, namely, that it is not friction alone,
but the friction of special substances against each other, that produces
electricity.

Thus we prove that non-electrics, like electrics, can be excited, the
condition of success being, that an insulator shall be interposed be
tween the non-electric and the earth. It is obvious that the old divis
ion into electrics and non-electrics really meant a division into insu
lators and conductors.

SEC. 9. Discovery of Two Electricities. We have hitherto dealt
almost exclusively with electric attractions, but, in an experiment al
ready referred to, Otto von Guericke observed the repulsion of a
feather by his sulphur globe. I also anticipated matters in the use of
our Dutch gold electroscope, where the repulsion of the leaves in
formed us of the arrival of the electricity.

Du Fay, who was the real discoverer here, found a gold-leaf float
ing in the air to be at first attracted and then repelled by the same
excited body. He proved that when it was repelled by rubbed glass,
it was attracted by rubbed resin and that when it was repelled by
rubbed resin, it was attracted by rubbed glass. Hence the important
announcement, by Du Fay, that there are two kinds of electricity.

The electricity excited on the glass was for a time called vitreous
electricity while that excited on the sealing-wax was called resinous
electricity. These terms are, however, improper ; because, by chang
ing the rubber, we can obtain the electricity of sealing-wax upon glass,
and the electricity of glass upon sealing-wax.

Roughen, for example, the surface of your glass tube, and rub^it
with flannel, the electricity of sealing-wax will be found upon the vit-

3 2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

reous surface. Rub your sealing-wax with vulcanized India-rubber,
the electricity of glass will be found upon the resinous surface.

We now use the term positive electricity to denote that developed
on glass by the friction of silk ; and negative electricity to denote that
developed on sealing-wax by the friction of flannel. These terms are
adopted purely for the sake of convenience. There is no reason in
Nature why the resinous electricity should not be called positive, and
the vitreous electricity negative. Once agreed, however, to apply the
terms as here fixed, we must adhere to this agreement throughout.

SEC. 10. Fundamental Law of Electric Action. In all the expeii-
ments which we have hitherto made, one of- the substances has been
electrified by friction, and the other not. But, once engaged in inqui
ries of this description, questions incessantly occur to the mind, the
answering of which extends our knowledge, and suggests other ques
tions. Suppose, instead of exciting only one -of the bodies presented
to each other, we were to excite both of them, what would occur ?
This is the question which was asked and answered by Du Fay, and
which we must answer for ourselves.

Here your wire loop (Fig. 1), comes again into play. Place an
unrubbed gutta-percha tube, or a stick of sealing-wax, in the loop,
and be sure that it is unrubbed that no electricity adheres to it from
former experiments. If it fail to attract light bodies, it is unexcited ;
if it attract them, pass your hand over it several times, or, better still,
pass it over or through the flame of a spirit-lamp or candle. This
will remove every trace of electricity. Attract the unrubbed gutta-
percha tube by a rubbed one.

Remove the unrubbed tube from the loop, and excite it with its
flannel rubber. One end of the tube is held in your hand, and is there
fore unexcited. Return the tube to the loop, keeping your eye upon
the excited end. Bring a second rubbed tube near the excited end
of the suspended one : strong repulsion is the consequence. Drive the
suspended tube round and round by this force of repulsion.

Bring a rubbed glass tube near the excited end of the gutta-percha
tube : strong attraction is the result.

Repeat this experiment step by step with two glass tubes. Prove
that the rubbed glass tube attracts the unrubbed one. Remove the
unrubbed tube from the loop, excite it by its rubber, return it to the
loop, and establish the repulsion of glass by glass. Bring rubbed
gutta-percha or sealing-wax near the rubbed glass : strong attraction
is the consequence.

These experiments lead us directly to the fundamental law of elec
tric action, which is this : Bodies charged with the same electricity
repel each other, while bodies charged with opposite electricities
attract each other. Positive repels positive, and attracts negative.
Negative repels negative, and attracts positive.

Devise experiments which shall still further illustrate this funda-

LESSONS IN ELECTRICITY. 33

mental law. Repeat, for example, Otto von Guericke s experiment.
Hang a feather by a silk thread, and bring your rubbed glass tube
near it : the feather is attracted, touches the rod, charges itself with
the electricity of the rod, and is then repelled. Cause it to retreat
from the rod in various directions.

Hang your feather by a common thread : if no insulating substance
intervenes between the feather and the earth, you can get no repul
sion. Why ? you ought to be able to answer. Obviously it is be
cause the charge of positive electricity communicated by the rod is
not retained by the feather, but passes away to the earth. Hence,
you have not positive acting against positive at all. Why you should
have the attraction of the neutral body by the electrified one will, as
already stated, appear by-and-by.

Attract your straw needle by your rubbed glass rod. Let the
straw strike the rod, so that the one shall rub against the other. The
straw accepts the electricity of the rod, and repulsion immediately
follows attraction, as shown in Fig. 7.

Mr. Cottrell has devised the simple electroscope represented in
Fig. 8 to show repulsion. A is a stem of sealing-wax, with a small
circle of tin, T, at the top. TFis a bent wire proceeding from T, with
a small disk attached to it by wax. // is a little straw index, sup
ported by the needle, N", as shown in the figure. The stem, A, is not
quite vertical, the object being to cause the bit of paper, J, to rest
close to W when the apparatus is not electrified. When electricity
is imparted to T, it flows through the wires, TFand w, over both disk
and index : immediate repulsion of the straw is the consequence.

No better experiment can be made to illustrate the self-repulsive
character of electricity than the following one : Heat your square
board again, and warm, as before, your sheet of foolscap. Spread
the paper upon the board, and excite it by the friction of India-rub
ber. Cut from the sheet two long strips with your penknife. Hold
the strips together at one end. Separate them from the board, and

VOL. IX. 3

34

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

lift them into the air : they forcibly drive each other apart, producing
a wide divergence.

Cut several strips, so as to form a kind of tassel. Hold them to
gether at one end. Separate them from the board, and lift them into
the air : they are driven asunder by the self-repellent electricity, pre-

FIG. 8.

senting an appearance which may remind you of the hair of Medusa.
The effect is represented in Fig. 9.

And now you must learn to determine with certainty the quality
of the electricity with which any body presented to you may be
charged. You see immediately that attraction is no sure test, because
unelectrified bodies are attracted. Further on you will be able to
grapple with another possible source of error in the employment of
attraction.

FIG. 9.

In determining quality, you must ascertain, by trial, the kind of
electricity by which the charged body is repelled ; if, for example,
any electrified body repel, or is repelled by, sealing-wax rubbed with

LESSONS IN ELECTRICITY. 35

flannel, the electricity of the body is negative ; if it repel, or is re
pelled by, glass, rubbed with silk, its electricity is positive. Du Fay
had the sagacity to propose this mode of testing quality.

Apply this test to the strips of foolscap paper excited by the In
dia-rubber. Bring a rubbed gutta-percha tube near the electrified
strips, you have strong attraction. Bring a rubbed glass tube be
tween the strips, you have strong repulsion and augmented diver
gence. Hence, the electricity, being repelled by the positive glass, is
itself positive.

SEC. 11. Double or " Polar" Character of the Electric Force. We
have examined the action of each kind of electricity upon itself, and
upon the other kind ; but hitherto we have kept the rubber out of
view. One of the questions which inevitably occur to the inquiring
scientific mind would be, How is the rubber affected by the act of
friction ? Here, as elsewhere, you must examine the subject for your
self, and base your conclusions on the facts you establish.

Test your rubber, then, by your balanced lath. The lath is attract
ed by the flannel, which has rubbed against gutta-percha ; and it K
attracted by the silk, which has rubbed against glass.

Regarding the quality of the electricity of the flannel or of the
silk, the attraction of the lath teaches you nothing. But, suspend
your rubbed glass tube, and bring the flannel rubber near it: repul
sion follows. The silk rubber, on the contrary, attracts the glass
tube. Suspend your rubbed gutta-percha tube, and bring the silk
rubber near it : repulsion follows. The flannel, on the contrary, at
tracts the tube.

The conclusion is obvious : the electricity of the flannel is posi
tive, that of the silk is negative.

But the flannel is the rubber of the gutta-percha, whose electrici
ty is negative ; and the silk is the rubber of the glass, whose elec
tricity is positive. Consequently, we have not only proved the rub
ber to be electrified by the friction, but also proved the electricity
of the rubber to be opposite in quality to that of the body rubbed.

SEC. 12. What is Electricity? Thus far we have proceeded from
fact to fact, acquiring knowledge of a very valuable kind. But facts
alone cannot satisfy us. We seek a knowledge of the principles
which lie behind the facts, and which are to be discerned by the mind
alone. Thus, having spoken, as we have done, of electricity passing
hither and thither, and of its being prevented from passing, hardly
any thoughtful boy or girl can avoid asking, What is it that thus
passes? what is electricity? Boyle and Newton betrayed their
need of an answer to this question when the one imagined his unc
tuous threads issuing from and returning to the electrified body, and
when the other imagined that an elastic fluid existed which penetrated
his rubbed glass.

When I say " imagined " I do not intend to represent the not

36 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of these great men as vain fancies. Without imagination we can do
nothing here. By imagination I mean the power of picturing men
tally things which have an existence as real as that of the world
around us, but which cannot be touched directly by the gross bodily
organs of sense. I mean the purified scientific imagination, without
the exercise of which we cannot take a single step into the region of
causes and principles.

It was by the exercise of the scientific imagination that Franklin
devised the theory of a single electric fluid to explain electrical phe
nomena. This fluid he supposed to be self-repulsive, and diffused in
definite quantities through all bodies. He supposed that when a
body has more than its proper share it is positively, when less than
its proper share it is negatively, electrified. It was by the exercise
of the same faculty that Symmer devised the theory of two electric
fluids, each self-repulsive, but both mutually attractive.

At first sight Franklin s theory seems by far the simpler of the two.
But its simplicity is only apparent. For, though Franklin assumed
only one fluid, he was obliged to assume three distinct actions. Two
of these were the mutual repulsion of the electric particles among
themselves, and the mutual attraction of the electric particles and the
ponderable particles of the body through which the electricity is dif
fused. These two assumptions, moreover, when strictly followed out,
lead to the unavoidable conclusion that the material particles must
also mutually repel each other. Thus the theory is by no means so
simple as it appears.

The theory of Symmer, though at first sight the most complicated,
is in reality by far the simpler of the two. According to it electrical
actions are produced by two fluids, each self-repulsive, but both mu
tually attractive. These fluids cling to the atoms of matter, and
carry the matter to which they cling along with them. Every body,
in its natural condition, possesses both fluids in equal quantities. As
long as the fluids are mixed together they neutralize each other, the
body in which they are thus mixed being in its natural or unelectrical
condition.

By friction (and by various other means) these two fluids may be
torn asunder, the one clinging by preference to the rubber, the other
to the body rubbed.

According to this theory there must always be attraction between
the rubber and the body rubbed, because, as we have proved, they
are oppositely electrified. This is in fact the case. And mark what
I now say. Over and above the common friction, this electrical at
traction has to be overcome whenever we rub glass with silk, or seal
ing-wax with flannel.

You are too young to fully grasp this subject yet ; and indeed it
would lead us too far away to enter fully into it. But I will throw
out for future reflection the remark that the overcoming of the ordi-

RECENT GEOGRAPHICAL PROGRESS. 3;

nary friction produces heat then and there upon the surfaces rubbed,
while the force expended in overcoming the electric attraction may
be converted into a spark which shall appear a thousand miles away
from the place where it was generated.

Theoretic conceptions are incessantly checked and corrected by
the advance of knowledge, and this theory of electric fluids is doubt
ed by many eminent scientific men. It will, at all events, have to be
translated into a form which shall connect it with heat and light, be
fore it can be accepted as complete. Nevertheless, keeping ourselves
unpledged to the theory, we shall find it of exceeding service both in
unraveling and in connecting together electrical phenomena.

RECENT GEOGRAPHICAL PROGRESS. 1

BY CHIEF-JUSTICE DALY,

PRESIDENT OF THE GEOGRAPHICAL 8OCIETT.

year 1875 completed the third quarter of the nineteenth cen-
tury, a period distinguished by the activity which has prevailed
in every branch of scientific inquiry, but particularly distinguished as
a remarkable period of geographical exploration and discovery.

The history of geographical knowledge is a history of its rapid
acquisition in periods very limited in point of time, but of great activ
ity, and of long intervals of repose, in which comparatively little was
done, or a great deal lost that had been previously acquired. For
the last twenty-five years we have been living in one of those periods
of exceptional activity, for at no time has an interest so wide-spread
been manifested for geographical exploration since that great age of
maritime discovery, that began in the early part of the fifteenth cen
tury with the exploration of the western coast of Africa by the Por
tuguese, and culminated in the circumnavigation of the globe by
Magellan. The comparatively small limits of about a century is all
that is embraced from the time (1418), when Prince Henry of Portu
gal, surnamed the Navigator, took up his abode upon the promontory
of Sagres to devote the residue of his life to the fitting out of expedi
tions for the exploration of the coast of Africa beyond Cape Boj:ulor,
a region then wholly unknown, and the year 1519, when Magellan
entered the Pacific by the discovery of the straits that bear his name.
Within that period the captains of Prince Henry had sailed around
the continent of Africa; Columbus had discovered America; his com
panion, Nunez de Balboa, the Pacific ; Sebastian Cabot had followed

1 From advance-sheets (introductory portion) of the President s annual address be
fore the American Geographical Society, on " The Geographical Work of the World in

1875."

38 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the coast of North America to the sixty-seventh parallel of north lati
tude; and Magellan s vessel the Vittoria, after sailing around the
world, had returned in 1522 to San Lucar, in Spain, the port whence
she set out.

The century that followed this period of discovery was occupied
with the more particular exploration and settlement of the regions
thus brought to the knowledge of mankind, and with the labors of
geographers and cartographers in arranging the great mass of new
materials into a reconstructed system of geography. With the ex
ception of fruitless efforts to discover, in the interest of commerce, a
northeast or a northwest passage to the Indies around the northern
part of the globe, or directly across the pole, the zeal for geographi
cal discovery abated through the seventeenth and eighteenth centu
ries ; the world being sufficiently occupied with what it had already
acquired, either in building up great empires in the newly-discovered
continents of North and South America, or by extending the rule of
maritime nations over the coast of Africa, and the remoter parts of
Asia, as in the settlement of the colonies established by the Portu
guese, and by the British conquest of India. In fact, so large a por
tion of the earth s surface had become known within so short a period,
that it presented enough to absorb all the activity of civilized nations
for three centuries in the work of colonization, settlement, or con
quest.

It was not until near the middle of the nineteenth century when
this great work had produced its results in the establishment of such
nations as the United Sta.tes, Mexico, the republics of Central Amer
ica, Brazil, the other states of South America, and of a vast dominion
under British rule in India, and by the extension of Russia over a
large part of Northern Asia, that the attention of mankind was again
drawn to the yet undiscovered or imperfectly known portions of the
earth, and a new interest awakened in geographical exploration and
discovery. This may be said to have begun with the founding of a
Geographical Society in Paris, in 1821 ; of another in Berlin, in 1828,
and the establishment of the Royal Geographical Society of London,
in 1830. These societies were formed to cultivate the science of
geography in a more comprehensive spirit, to facilitate the acquisi
tion of geographical information by the establishment of libraries, to
disseminate it by publications, and to encourage and assist scientific
travelers and explorers. Like all new things, however, it was some
years before these societies produced any effect, or the world recog
nized the value -of the purpose for which they were established;
whereas the results which have since been brought about, chiefly
through the instrumentality of such institutions, are beyond anything
which the most sanguine of their projectors could have anticipated.

The Royal Geographical Society of London may be taken as an
illustration of these societies. It has now 3,035 fellows, each paying

REGENT GEOGRAPHICAL PROGRESS. 39

2 a year, a large permanent capital, and an annual income of $35,000.
It has a building of its own, a fine library and map room, and is able to
send, and has frequently sent out expeditions for geographical explora
tion and discovery, sometimes in cooperation with the government,
and sometimes without it. Before, however, it reached this state it
had, as I have been informed, to struggle for some years, as we have
had, to keep up its organization. The turning-point of its history,
and in its influence, appears to have been the election, in 1843, of Sir
Roderick I. Murchison to the presidency, then in the fullness of h>s
fame as a geologist, but who thenceforth entered upon a new field, and
one by which he was afterward chiefly known. In his first annual ad
dress, an elaborate and exhaustive production, he surveyed the then
state of geographical research throughout the world, and pointed
out with remarkable sagacity that the parts of the globe to which
exploration and research should be directed and concentrated were
central Africa, Australia, and the regions surrounding the north
and south poles. Although his own fame had been made as a geolo
gist, his course then and during the many years that he was the
guiding spirit of the Royal Geographical Society showed very plainly
his conviction that a thorough knowledge of the surface of our own
planet, and of those physical laws that affect everything upon it, is
practically of more importance to us than a knowledge of its past
physical history or of other bodies in space.

It was not that he undervalued the sciences of geology and astron-
omy, which, in fact, form a part of the science of geography ; but the
earth is our own planet, the details of which are within our grasp, and
there is therefore the greater reason why every effort should be di
rected to acquire a thorough knowledge of it, particularly as the in
crease of that knowledge requires widely-extended efforts over differ
ent parts of it, and a vast accumulation of details. I am not now ex
pressing anything he may have said, but rather deducing my own
conclusions of what he thought from what he did. He was evidently
impressed with the conviction that sufficient attention was not then
given to the advancement of the science of geography, and to his emi
nently practical mind it was clear that it was not to be advanced by
simply studying it in the closet, but by explorations and scientific re
searches, requiring persistent efforts, continuous expenditures, and the
labors of a numerous, zealous, and intelligent class of workers over a:
large part of the earth s surface. To accomplish this, the whole age
had to be influenced, governments enlisted, and the different so<>
brought into active cooperation with each other, and it was to this
work that Sir Roderick then set himself, and to which he may be said
to have chiefly devoted the remainder of his life.

I have selected Sir Roderick Murchison rather as a type, for it was
not to him alane, but to many other eminent men in France,.Ger-
inany, Russia, Italy, and other countries, preeminent among

4 o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

was Alexander von Humboldt, that the conviction became general
that the unknown, or imperfectly known, parts of the earth should be
thoroughly investigated, and scientific researches actively prosecuted
in respect to all phenomena coming under the general head of phys
ical geography. This has, in fact, brought about, as I have said, a
geographical age. There are now scattered over the globe thirty-four
geographical societies, and, if we add other organizations devoted in
part to geographical inquiry or labors, the number would be augment
ed to about fifty. Many of them are well endowed, large in point of
numbers, and strengthened not only by the cooperation of, but by an
nual grants of money from, the governments of the countries in which
they are situated.

How thoroughly this spirit was aroused, will appear by a brief,
but necessarily imperfect, statement of what has been accomplished
since this movement began.

When it commenced, the map of Africa was, with the exception of
the northwestern projection, above the Gulf of Guinea, and the Nile
region, almost a blank from the Mediterranean to the country in the
vicinity of the Cape of Good Hope. Of the 17,000,000 of square miles
in Asia, about 12,000,000 were either entirely unknown, or wholly cut
off from all intercourse with mankind. The condition of Australia,
with an area of 3,000,000 of square miles, is best expressed by quoting
the language of a geographer of that day. " A corner of this huge
mass of land," he says, "is all that is known." Twenty-five years ago
the European population of Australia was estimated at about 50,000 ;
it is now over 1,500,000, or thirty times as great.

The second island in point of size, and one of the most fruitful in
the world, Papua, or New Guinea, is referred to by the same geogra
pher Murray, as almost a terra incognita, having generally, he then
said, " been viewed only by navigators from a distance ; " and in re
spect to the next great island, Borneo, he puts the population of the
colonies there under the Dutch at about 9,000. In 1870 the popula
tion of the Dutch colonies in Borneo was 189,253. The settled por
tion of the United States then embraced 800,000 square miles, beyond
which was an area of 2,500,000 square miles inhabited by savages,
and almost unknown ; for we knew little of it then beyond what was
known in the time of Jefferson, with the exception of Major Long s
journey and Prof. Nicollet s exploration of the head-waters of the
Mississippi.

This was the state of things at the beginning of the period re
ferred to. I will now enumerate what has been done since, and espe
cially within the last twenty-five years.

In Asia : the opening of the whole of China and Japan ; the acqui
sition by the Russians of nearly the whole of Toorkistan, and the in
auguration of a policy on their part which, either by treaty or mili
tary conquest, will throw open the whole of Northern Asia to the free

REGENT GEOGRAPHICAL PROGRESS. 4l

intercourse of the world. The extensive explorations by them in
Northern Siberia, and of the rivers that flow into the Arctic. The
many journeys, explorations, geographical and archaeological, made
through Southern Arabia, Persia, Afghanistan, Beloochistan, and the
northern regions of India, and explorations of the like character in
Burmah, Siam, and Cambodia. The settlement of the French in Co-
chin-China, and journeys to a -partial extent in Corea, and to a greater
extent in Mantchooria. The Euphrates Expedition. The continuation
of the great survey of India. The survey of Palestine, and the cutting
of the Suez Canal.

In Africa : the discovery of the great lakes, as well those which
are the reservoirs of the Nile, as those lying south of the equator.
The exploration of the country south of Abyssinia, between these lakes
and the eastern coast, and the discovery of the great range of moun
tains in that region, with their snow-capped peaks, the most ele
vated land in Africa. The military occupation of Abyssinia and of
Ashantee by the English ; the extensive journeys and researches in
Northern and Northeastern Africa, by Barth, Overweg, Richardson,
Rohlfs, Schweinfurth, Miani, Nachtigal, and others. The various ex
peditions and individual journeys along the western coast, and the
explorations of its immediate interior by Du Chaillu, Burton, Baines,
Blyden, Gandy, Gussfeldt, etc., etc. The two journeys across Central
Africa, from east to west, and west to east, by Dr. Livingstone ; his
journey from the Cape upward ; his exploration of the Zambezi, and
of the countries by which it is watered ; his discovery of the great
network of rivers and lakes in Central Africa, below the equator, which
he was pursuing at the time of his death, and the following up of that
exploration by Lieutenant Cameron, with the latter s journey through
Central Africa, from east to west. The numerous explorations in
South and Southeastern Africa, from the Orange River to the Limpopo,
and from that point along the eastern coast and its interior, as far as
the parallel of Zanzibar, which, with the exploration of the imperfect
ly known parts of the Island of Madagascar by Grandidier and Mul-
lins, is but a very general statement of what has been done in Africa.
What exploration has accomplished in Africa may be judged by a sin
gle fact. In 1850 the area of cultivated land in Egypt was 2,000,000
of acres; in 1874 it was 5,000,000.

I may next refer to the numerous explorations around and across
the great continent of Australia from Sturt s early journey to the last
ones of Warburton and Forster. The survey of large portions of the
coast of Papua or New Guinea, and explorations in the interior by
Beccaria, D Albertis, Meyer, Van Rosenberg, and MacLeay. The
explorations in Formosa by Steere, Le Gendre, and others, and the
settlement of colonies and the establishment of governments by the
English in New Zealand and the Feejee Islands. The explorations of
the Arctic to within sio-ht of the eighty-third parallel of north latitude,

42 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

including the discovery of the long-sought northwestern passage, and
of its inutility. The exploration of the antarctic circle as far as the
73 of south latitude, and the remarkable discovery that the ice-bound
regions, both of the Arctic and Antarctic, were, at a former period of the
world s history, covered with a luxuriant vegetation, and that plants
and animals then existed there in great abundance, which are found
now only in the tropics, or in the more southern parts of the temperate
zone.

And finally our own explorations of the great Western region,
between the Mississippi and the Pacific, by Fremont, Emory, Simpson,
Marcy, Stansbury, Sitgreaves, Gunnison, Beckwith, Whipple, Wil
liamson, Parke, Warren, Ives, Reynolds, Macomb, Mullen, Wheeler,
and other gallant, efficient, and distinguished military officers con
ducting reconnoissances or expeditions across its plains, deserts, and
mountains, accompanied in these expeditions by scientific civilians, to
whose labors we are indebted for our knowledge of its geology, agri
cultural resources, and natural history. Among strictly scientific
works by civilians I should also enumerate Whitney s survey of Cali
fornia, followed by King and Gardner s belt of geological and topo
graphical survey across the North American Cordilleras, Hayden and
Gardner s survey in the Rocky Mountains, and Powell and Thompson s
of the great canons of the Colorado, through whose united labors so
much of the geography of this vast region has become known ; its
great mountain-ranges, extraordinary canons, wonderful geysers, deep
ly interesting ruins of a prehistoric and semi-civilized people of whom
we know but little ; its lakes, rivers, majestic cataracts, broad areas
of cultivable land, already largely and to be still more extensively
settled, and finally the millions it has yielded in gold and silver ; a
region so vast beyond the one hundredth meridian, that it will be
twenty years before we obtain proper maps of it, unless the Govern
ment is more liberal in providing for its exploration and survey than
it has hitherto been.

To these geographical labors and explorations within this period
in various parts of the globe must also be added extensive researches
of a geographical character, such as deep-sea dredgings, for the inves
tigation of the temperature of the ocean, the movements of submerged
currents, the plant and animal life existing at great depths, and the
configuration of the bottom of the seas. The observation and study
of oceanic currents and their cause. The distribution of heat north
and south of the equator by the instrumentality of these currents, and
its effects upon climate, as well as the effect of the currents from polar
regions in modifying the heat of the equator. The meteorological ob
servations in respect to the course of the winds ; and the investiga
tions of the laws and of the cause of hurricanes, cyclones, and other
aerial disturbances. The magnetic observations in elucidation of the
difficult subject of terrestrial magnetism. The numerous measure-

THE MOLLUSKS OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 43

monts of great mountain-heights in the more elevated regions of the
glbue. The extensive survey of coasts, prominent among which is our
own great Coast Survey. The trigonometrical surveys carried on in
many countries in Europe. The investigation of the cause of the
glacial epoch, and possibly of inter-glacial epochs, or a succession of
alternate warm and cold periods, each extending over long epochs of
time, and their effect in bringing about the present condition of the
earth s surface by changes in the level of the sea and the submergence
of the land.

This very inadequate statement will show how great, wide-spread,
and constant has been the w^ork of exploration and research within the
period referred to, and how truly it may be denominated a geographi
cal age.

THE MOLLUSKS OF THE EOCKY MOUNTAINS.

BY ERNEST INGERSOLL.

IN the summer of 1874 it was my privilege to accompany one of the
parties of the United States Geological Survey of the Territories,
of which Dr. F. V. Hayden is chief. The field of operations was the
mountainous region of Southern Colorado, and it afforded a good op
portunity to examine the natural history of the region traversed.

The mammals of the Rocky Mountains have long been well known,
particularly the large game, which, except in the distant portions of
the Territory of Colorado, has been greatly depleted by the constant
pursuit of hunters and trappers. The case is somewhat the same with
the game-birds; while the enthusiastic labors of Henshaw, Aiken,
Allen, Coues, and other ornithologists, have given us a very complete
knowledge of all the birds and their habitats. The fishes and reptiles
have received some attention too ; and, in the lower, invertebrate forms
of life, the investigations of Thomas upon the grasshoppers, Carpenter
on the butterflies and moths, and Edwards, Packard, and Hagen on
other insects, and the reports upon Crustacea and worms by Verrill,
Smith, Leidy and others, have given us a tolerable knowledge of the
extent to which those forms are to be found in that region. But the
mollusks of the mountains land-snails, pond-snails, river-snails, and
fresh-water mussels have been almost entirely neglected, except by
Dr. Cooper, in the north. From Colorado only seven had been reported,
which were collected by Lieutenant Carpenter. This, then, seemed to be
the field most needing cultivation, and my attention was chiefly turned
to it durincr three months of wandering over the mountain-ranges,
parks, and sterile plains, that diversify the country between Midd
Park and the corner of Arizona. Something was found at
every camp, and, when the collection was at home and counted, it was

44 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

somewhat surprising to find over fifty species, only nine of which had
been hitherto known to exist in the Central Province, where an ex
treme "paucity of species, .... owing to the nature of its climate
and soil," had been alleged. Five of these species were new to science,
and have since been described in the " Bulletin of the United States
Geological Survey," second series, No. 2, which has since been re
printed in an extended and revised form, in the Annual Report of the
Survey for 1874.

The Central Province alluded to above is the name given by Mr.
W. G. Binney 1 to that portion of the United States embraced be
tween the crests of the Sierra Nevada and Cascade Mountains on the
west and the edge of the great plains on the east. It was considered
to be unfavorable to the development of pulmonates and deficient in
the number of species to be found, and that its fauna was closely
allied to that of the Eastern States, whence it had been largely derived
by way of the north, where the plains are succeeded by forests and
the Rocky Mountains dwindle into hills.

With respect to this distribution of mollusks in Colorado, none were
found on the eastern slope of the range, although there is no conclusive
evidence that they do not exist there ; altitude seemed to have very
little influence upon their dispersion, as long as other favorable con
ditions were present, and some species had a very local distribution.

The eastern slope of the Snowy Range is abrupt, and receives com
paratively little rain. Westward of the summit, however, certain
genera as Zonites, Vitrina, Vallonia, Patula, Pupa, Succinea, and
Pisidium were everywhere represented. Vitrinas and pupas were,
perhaps, the most common forms, the latter being particularly numer
ous on the Sierras in the southeastern corner of the Territory, where
Pupilla alticola were traced up to the very limit of timber-growth,
and upon the face of precipitous cliffs of volcanic rock, in whose clefts
only tufts of grass could gain a foothold. With the latter shell also
occurred some small succineas, and a mollusk with a delicate, box-
shaped shell, only one-tenth of an inch in diameter. Plenty of these
little fellows, as lively as could be, were to be found at the astonish
ing height of 11,500 feet. They proved to be undescribed, and to
belong to the sub-genus Microphysa, the two American species of
which, heretofore known, are natives of the Gulf coast and the West
Indies. W T hy this species should depart so far from the habits of its
congeners as to thrive best in the arctic climate of these mountain-
tops, is strange. This Microphysa was afterward met with in the
valleys south of these Sierras, and in the mountains west of North
Park. In this same southern group of mountains many other shells
were found at a lesser altitude, but where water froze every night in
August of the same species as existed in other parts of the Territory,

1 In the " Bulletin of the Museum of Comparative Zoology " (Cambridge, Mass.), vol.
iii., No. 9, " Geographical Distribution of North American Mollusca."

THE MOLLUSKS OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 45

and, indeed, all over the Central Province. The finding of Pupilla
Blandi, heretofore known only as a fossil in Missouri Kiver drift
living and abundant, is an instance worthy of special mention.

It would seem, then, that a range of high mountains, or any number
of ranges, would not offer a serious obstacle to the migration of land
mollusks, or an insurmountable one to fresh-w r ater forms. The wide
spread dissemination of such slow-moving creatures is a curious argu
ment for the length of time that the country must have remained in
substantially its present condition.

The Sierras of which I have spoken are those which encircle Baker s
Park and the San Juan mining region, and extend westward to the
base of the great Uncompahgre Mountains, which trend northward not
far from the Utah line. This group of volcanic and quartzite peaks
constitutes the highest land anywhere in that region, and gives source
both to the Rio Grande del Norte and to the head-waters of the Great
Colorado River. Its steep southern sides are gashed with tremen
dous gulches through which the Rio las Animas, the Rio La Plata, the
Rio los Mancos, and other streams, which go to make up the Rio San
Juan, flow out into the terrible canon-cut deserts that stretch away
across Arizona to the Gila River. For a few miles after emerging
from their rocky gates, these rivers water beautiful and fertile valleys,
which are cut through the sandstones upturned against the intruded
peaks, and which abound in springs. In these valleys are plenty of
timber and undergrowth, the climate is rarely cold enough for snow
even in winter, arid there I expected to gather a rich conchological
harvest. In this I was not disappointed, only regretting that I could
not make a more thorough examination than was permitted by the
rapidity of our travel. Between the Animas and La Plata the trail
passes through a valley between the lowest of the foot-hills, where
there is a pond of several acres extent, resorted to by all sorts of wild
fowl, inhabited by many forms of amphibious life, and choked with an
exuberant aquatic vegetation. Here were found thousands of limneas
of several species, and quantities of the common PlanorUs trivolvis
showing a large range of variation among themselves. Like the lim
neas, the planorbs were extremely fragile in texture, which may be
owing partly to the soft bottom, and partly to the scarcity of lime in
the water ; and they were distinguished by a short vertical diameter,
which peculiarity, also, may have been acquired by them from the
necessities of their habitat, since snails having shells with small breadth
of beam could most advantageously pass between the stalks of stand
ing water-plants that everywhere crowded the pond. But the as
tonishing fact about this pond was, that on the shore were found per
fect specimens although dead of the marine genus Truncatella, a
broken specimen of an Area, and living crabs pronounced by Prof.
Sidney I. Smith, of New Haven, to be true salt-water forms belonging
to the family Astacidoe. That these are survivors of the period, prob-

46 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ably comparatively recent, when here was a soft-water marsh that
remained caught in this basin among the hills after the country, for a
long distance south of it, had become dry land, seems very evident.
It is difficult otherwise to account for their presence.

Farther on, in the valley of the Rio La Plata, where it emerges
from its magnificent quartz canon, and where the gold placer-mines
and prospective city of La Plata are situated, a fine collecting-ground
was found. This was so far south that many deciduous trees grew in
the river-bottoms, and nearly every terrestrial species hitherto met
with was there to be had in plenty. For the next ten days we were
entirely in the lava-blasted, treeless and waterless deserts on the
northern margin of the Rio San Juan, engaged in exploring the ves
tiges of that ancient semi-civilized race of village Indians, the rem
nants of which still exist in the small tribe of Moquis on the Little
Colorado. During this time no mollusks were found except, where
there was a little moisture, a few pupas, which seem able to live any
where, and many bleached shells of various species that had been
drifted down from the mountains at times of high water.

Our return-journey from the San Juan country was made from its
very sources along the course of the Rio Grande. It led us through
Antelope Park, on the eastern side of which lies St. Mary s Lake, a
beautiful little sheet of crystal water studded with islands, and held
among precipitous cliffs that afford it no visible outlet. It seems to
be merely a great rocky basin, holding the melted snows of the sur
rounding heights. Its surface is over 9,000 feet above the sea. There
existed in countless numbers in this lake a large species of coil-shell
which was a nondescript, and which I have since named Helisoma
plexata. Each of the hundreds of individuals seen possessed in a more
or less marked degree a twisted appearance, resulting from a change
in the plane of revolution in old age, which is the most striking specific
character. This sudden change in the directness of the growth causes
the carina of the third whorl to rise into a sharp shoulder on the right
side, while on the opposite side the third whorl sinks underneath the
overflowing outer whorl. A similar change often occurs in the fourth
whorl, giving a braided look to the shell. How this species came al
most alone to inhabit this secluded lake is a problem, complicated by
the fact that probably there is not another large Planorbis within
fifty miles. That the wild-fowls, abundant on the lake, brought the
eggs clinging to their feet, may be a plausible explanation; but where
did they bring them from, and when ? The bottom of the lake is, for
the most part, rough conglomerate rock, and is in many places filled
with tangled water-plants, which may partially account for the pecu
liarities of the species. The shells of this genus appear to be especially
subject to distortion under abnormal conditions.

Continuing our course down the valley of the Rio Grande to the
town of Del Norte, we there left the river and struck across the San

THE MOLLUSKS OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 47

Luis Valley to Mosca Pass through the Sangre de Cristo Range. This
alkali and sage-brush plain, fifty miles wide, is very far from being
" the garden of the world," as it has been styled. Near the eastern
side is a group of lakes, the water of which is highly alkaline. These
lakes are the abode and breeding-place of wild geese and ducks in the
greatest number, which are tormented without end by the gulls that
also make the lakes their home. On the gravelly beaches I picked up
many shells, and doubtless in the deep water many more species might
have been dredged, had there been time. But nowhere were there
any bivalves, except the little cyclades. The fact that there was no
lack of molluscan life in these intensely bitter waters was not surpris
ing, since mollusks seem to flourish in mineral springs of both hot and
cold water everywhere. We had seen before a fine illustration of this
adaptation to peculiar conditions. The Grand River, which flows
through Middle Park, contains no mollusks at all that I could dis
cover; but at Hot Springs, in a little lagoon filled at high water,
large, clear, ampullacea-Yike forms of the familiar Physa heterostropha
were common. Close by, in the few yards of exposed outlet of the
springs of hot sulphur-water from which the locality derives its name,
there occurred in the greatest profusion a blackish, globose variety of
the same species only one-fifth of an inch long. The temperature of
this water was at some points as high as 100 Fahr. Tn the basin of
a still hotter spring not ten feet away, whose waters were saturated
with chlorides of sodium and magnesium, hundreds of still smaller
Physce, were floating about in mats glued together by a tangle of con-
fervoid vegetation and the depositions of the water. All these seemed
to have lost their apices by erosion, " which is extremely liable to
happen to shells living in water charged with alkaline salts other than
lime." On the other hand, quite as small and black were the examples
from the pure cold springs near Saguache, where there was seemingly
nothing whatever to stunt their growth.

I was stimulated, by the results of rny study of my own collection
from Colorado, to gather all possible information about the mollusks
of the Central Province generally, as it has been limited above. The
bibliography was quite large, but the notes of locality and station
very meagre. Tabulating the sum of the information open to me,
and including my own summer s work, I found that 138 nominal
species had been recorded as occurring in this inter-montanic region.
Of these, 49 were also Californian species; 15 occurred also in the
Eastern United States; 8 hailed from the Colorado Desert; 7 were
found all over the continent, and 8 all over the world ; and 3 belonged
in the Eastern Province, west ofnhe Alleghanies only. This left 47
nominal species, whese range, so far as yet known, is confined to the
Central Province. Many of the specific names in this list, however,
rest upon very insecure foundations, and will, no doubt, soon be re
duced to synonyms. With respect to their vertical distribution, ob-

48 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

servations in the Rocky Mountains do not tally well with D Orfo gny s
notes from the Andes, since out of 156 species discovered in South
America, he found only 13 between the thirty-fourth and forty-fifth
parallels of latitude which corresponds to the district of north lati
tude considered here and only 10 species were found above 5,000
feet. My list of the Rocky Mountain mollusca, on the contrary, shows
that 55 species out of the 138 inhabit heights exceeding 5,000 feet,
and 10 species have been found above 10,000 feet. These latter,
however, are all recorded from mountains south of the thirty-ninth
parallel ; but it is safe to say that, where there is moisture, a goodly
collection of mollusks can be made in the mountains of the Terri
tories all "the way up to the timber-line. This is probably true of all
parts of the world.

In a recent paper on the hypsometric distribution of mollusca in
Europe, communicated to the French Academy of Sciences at Paris,
at their meeting on October 11, 1875, M. P. Fischer alludes to the
great regularity with which plants thrive on mountains, each at a
certain height. The terrestrial mollusca, being unprovided with means
of locomotion enjoyed by birds and insects, and being, moreover,
dependent upon vegetable life for food, could not fail to be discovered
in the same way as plants, and this supposition he confirmed by ob
servation. Each species extends to an altitude the limits of which it
does not overstep. M. Fischer has verified this in the central Pyrenees
as well as in the Alps, and divided the altitudes into five zones, com
prised between 1,500 feet and 7,500 feet. Each zone is distinguished
by the name of a species of Helix. Thus, in the Pyrenees, the first
zone, ending at a height of 3,000 feet, is called that of Helix carthu-
siana ; the second, ending at 3,600 feet, Helix aspersa ; the third,
terminating at 4,500 feet, Helix limbata ; the fourth, limited at 6,000
feet, Helix nemoralis and the fifth, ending at 7,500 feet, Helix caras-
calensis. In the Alps, at the same altitudes, the names of the zones
are respectively Helix carthusiana, obvoluta^ Fontenelli, sylvatica, and
glacialis. A few individual mollusks will, indeed, climb as high as
9,000 feet, but they all stop at the limit of perpetual snow. Various
genera of fluviatile mollusks do not ascend higher than 3,000 feet, a
circumstance which the author considered of some importance to
geologists, since it proves that in the quaternary beds the fossiliferous
strata containing those genera, such as Neritina, Paludina, etc., were
deposited at small altitudes. The Lake of Goube, about three hours
walk from Cauterets, 5,364 feet above the level of the sea, is thickly
peopled with trout, frogs, and mollusks.

The results of this inquiry into the geographical distribution of
mollusks in the mountainous West are meagre enough, but may be of
some use in future investigations. Whether this central region is a
true zoological province considered with reference to the mollusca,
and what is the origin of its fauna, are hardly to be answered yet.

CHARACTER AND WORK OF LIE BIG. 49

Enough seems to be known, however, to show that this inter-montanic
region is not so deficient as has been supposed, either in the number
of its species or in representatives of adjoining faunas. The impres
sion that the Central Province is unfavorable to pulmonate growth
also seems wrong, except in respect to the scarcity of lime in the soil,
to which cause we may probably attribute the fact that the more
minute forms are in large majority.

CHARACTER AND WORK OF LIEBIG. 1

BY J. L. W. THUDTCHUM, M. D.

JUSTUS LIEBIG was born on the 12th of May, 1803, at Darmstadt,
in the grand-duchy of Hesse. His father was what in this country
(England) we should term a wholesale druggist and dry-salter, a trade
which is in Germany designated by the name of materialist. There
is no doubt that the opportunities which he had of collecting chemical
reagents, and of witnessing the preparation of many products which
were the objects of his father s trade, early excited in him that curi
osity which soon became an insatiable thirst. It is related on credit
able testimony that at the age of fourteen years he had performed all
the experiments of which he could get knowledge from books, or for
which within his means he could obtain the materials, and it is related
by himself that about that time there was not a work in the library
of the Grand-duke of Darmstadt on chemistry which he had not read.
Looking at his early days by the light of that information, we cannot
doubt that the anecdote ordinarily told of his having been a dull boy
is a mere mistake. He was abstracted by other pursuits, and there
fore, no doubt, neglected his school-work, but that he should have
been less gifted than others cannot, under the circumstances, be be
lieved. It is related by a credible person that in 1817, when he and
his school-fellows were speaking to each other as to what pursuit they
were to select, he said that he was going to be a chemist, whereupon
the other boys laughed at him and told him he was a great fool, for a
chemist was nothing. However, times have changed, and what at
that time was considered as no pursuit is now an honored profession.
In the year 1818 he gave a distinct direction to that early bent of
his mind, and he followed almost the only way which at that time
existed in Germany for studying chemistry ; he became an apprentice
in an ordinary apothecary s establishment. An apothecary in Ger
many is a more scientific person than perhaps many would believe.
He has had a thorough training, he has passed examinations, and he
represents, therefore, the scientific side of chemistry, pharmacy, and
1 From the " Cantor Lectures " delivered before the Society of Arts.
TOL. ix. 4

5 o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the science of drugs in perfection. To such an apothecary, residing at
Heppenheim, near Darmstadt, Liebig went, and remained there about
ten months, but in that occupation as an apprentice his mind soon
became wearied, he saw that he could not attain his object ; and when,
while continuing some of his early experiments on the fulminates, on
one occasion he had the misfortune to produce a great explosion,
this fact quickly terminated his apprenticeship, and he returned to
Darmstadt. These explosions in the early days of great chemists are
not uncommon. It is related in the case of Scheele that, when he was
apprenticed to an apothecary, he once had a great explosion, in con
sequence of which his landlady expelled him from the house.

Liebig returned to his father s house in the year 1814, and read for
six months in order to prepare himself for visiting the University of
Bonn. He there listened to the lectures on theoretical chemistry of
the well-known Prof. Kastner, and he also studied the other natural
sciences and some languages, and, what is very characteristic of his
great genius and perseverance, he formed a society among the stu
dents for the purpose of teaching one another, and for discussing sub
jects connected with chemistry and physics. Kastner being called to
Erlangen, Liebig followed him there, and we are told that there he
read all the new chemical publications, established another students
society for the same object as the first, and made many friends among
the students, of whom several continued that friendship up to their
death. Thus the celebrated poet, Count Platen, corresponded with
him to the time of his death in 1830, and of this friendship we can see
many congenial influences in the writings of Liebig, for there is no
doubt that, in his " Familiar Letters on Chemistry," the language,
although always prose, frequently rises to the highest beauty, such as
can only be produced by a mind of a poetical turn. The same influ
ence of the classical period of German literature you will also perceive
for example in the writings of Humboldt, particularly in his "Views
on Nature," which are therefore considered as examples of classical
German diction. Liebig also made the acquaintance of Bischof, the
botanist, and of Engelhard, later Professor of Chemistry at Nurem
berg. He went in for the severe study of what at that time was called
philosophy, that is, he listened to the lectures on metaphysics and
philosophy in general, of the then great Schelling. Now, let me give
you the words of Liebig on that period of his life. He says : " I my
self studied for some time in a university where the greatest philoso
phers and metaphysicians of the century carried the studying youths
away to admiration and imitation. Who could at that time resist the
infection ? I, too, have lived and participated in this period so rich
in words and ideas, so poor in true knowledge and solid studies: it
has robbed me of two precious years of my life. I cannot describe
the terror and dismay which I felt when I awoke from this giddy
dream to consciousness. How many most gifted and talented men

CHARACTER AND WORK OF LIEBIG. 51

have I seen perish in this vertigo, how many wails about life-objects
completely missed have I been obliged to hear afterward ! " Thus he
spoke in his work on the study of the natural sciences, which was pub
lished at Brunswick in 1840.

Now, in order that you may be able to apprehend what this kind
of philosophy was, and to understand more fully the position from
which he had to emancipate himself, even at that early time of his
life, I will quote to you a very few passages, and I will make them as
short as possible, compatible with illustration, from one of Schelling s
works, from the periodical for speculative physics mark the term,
" Speculative Physics." I will quote the following passage : " Nature
strives in the dynamical sphere necessarily to absolute indifference,
not by magnetism nor by electricity is represented the totality of the
dynamical process, but only by the chemical process. With the third
dimension of the product the two other dimensions are opposed. In
Nature itself there is one and inseparate, what is separated for the pur
pose of speculation." That is almost enough, but I will give you an
other passage which will be more striking because of the contrary
itself being known to you. Here he says of the composition of water :
" Water contains just the same as iron, but in absolute indifference as
yonder in relative indifference, carbon and nitrogen, and thus all true
polarity of the earth is reduced to an original south and north which
are fixed in the magnet." Now, in order that you may believe that he
did not merely speak of an admixture or impurity of carbon or nitro
gen, but that he meant to say that it was the essence of water, and
that it was really composed of these two elements, and not of any
other, he goes on to say : " The animal is in organic Nature the iron ;
the plant is the water, for Nature begins with the relative separation
of the sexes, and then ends in this separation. The animal decomposes
the iron, the plant decomposes the water. The female and the male
sex of the plant is the carbon and the nitrogen of the water." These
are two examples of the philosophy of Schelling, which was believed
at that time to be the science by which Germany could be regenerated,
by which the generation which had then only just recovered its inde
pendence would be put on a firm mental basis. The followers of this
system were called to the court of Prussia, and there Hegel, the phi
losopher, continued in a similar manner to teach doctrines which now
adays seem to be but a farrago of nonsense. Hegel says, for example,
on the chemical process : " If electricity was the broken magnetism,
because the opposite poles are independent bodies upon which the
positive and negative electricity is distributed, and if the point of
indifference is the explosion of an indifferent light by itself, then is the
chemical process, on the other hand, the totality of the shaping. We
have two independent bodies which belong more to the one or the
other extreme ; to the metal on the one hand, or the sulphur on the
other, which meet in an indifferent medium, and by abandoning their

52 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

abstract one-sidediiess in which they decompose the medium combine
to a third body which is the totality and the neutrality of the oppo-
sites, the dynamical process in its highest perfection."

When a young man of seventeen or eighteen years of age is capa
ble of freeing himself from the trammels of such a chimera termed
philosophy, which had taken such a deep hold of a whole nation as to
cause to flock to the university where it was taught the selected youth
of the whole country, you may give him credit for great power of
mind and for great independence of judgment. Do not forget that
this development of the philosophy of Schelling and Hegel was a con
sequence of the latter part of the philosophy of Kant. Kant s phi
losophy was great as long as it was based on the exact sciences, upon
physics, and upon mathematics, but when he left that basis and went
into the speculative philosophy he gradually went away from that
basis which had made his early philosophy so sound and so full of
meaning for the perfection of the human understanding. On the other
hand, when you come to a further development of the same philoso
phy, namely, that of Fichte, there the speculative part vanishes en
tirely into insignificance, because that which Fichte taught was not
such kind of nonsense as that which I have read to you, but it was a
kind of moral philosophy which spoke to the youth of Germany, and
taught them this one great proposition, which every one of them
ought to feel, and which is the first condition of self-consciousness in
man, namely, "I am I;" this was the great teaching of Fichte, by
which he brought home to men their own value and their own powers,
which cannot be said was the result of the other philosophy from
which I have quoted.

In 1822 Liebig, having emancipated himself from this kind of
teaching, took the degree of Doctor of Philosophy at Erlangen, when
he was nineteen years old. In the autumn of that year he returned
to Darmstadt ; his researches and endeavors then became known, and
he attracted the attention of the Grand-duke Ludwig I., of Hesse-
Darmstadt, who conferred upon him a state stipend, to enable him to
continue his studies at Paris. To Paris, therefore, he went. Now let
us for a moment consider what was then the condition of chemistry
at Paris. Lavoisier, the great reformer, who had established what
was then called the antiphlogistic chemistry, had thirty years before
died on the scaffold ; Guy ton de Morveau, Fourcroy, and Berthollet,
whom the first Napoleon called the plus brave des Fran$ais, because
he gave him chlorate of potassium, by which he hoped to overcome
the want of nitre for his gunpowder; the great Societe d Arcueil,
which worked through the whole of the war-times zealously at science,
and published its memoirs all these men had passed away. But there
remained their disciples in the persons of Proust, Chevreul, Yauquelin,
Gay-Lussac, Thenard, and Dulong. Chevreul is the only one of these
celebrated men who now lives, and he has lately published, in the

CHARACTER AND WORK OF LIE BIG. 53

Comptes Rendus, a very remarkable paper on the changes which are
produced in the power of thinking and observing by age. Fourcroy
the great animal chemist, who, in connection with Vauquelin, laid the
foundation of that physiological chemistry on which the modern sci
ence is based ; then Gay-Lussac, Thenard, and Dulong, men of the
new science, who continued the work in a most glorious manner, which
in this country had been carried to such a glorious issue by Humphry
Davy these men were at that time teaching at Paris, and at the
laboratory which the liberality of the first Napoleon and his envy
of English discoveries had established at L^cole Poly technique.
They contiued to study and shape the new science which was destined
to give to the modern science of chemistry precision.

Liebig then worked with Thenard, listened to Gay-Lussac s lectures,
and he met there the young German chemists, Runge, well known by
his many researches on tar, and the tar products; Mitscherlich, the
discoverer of isomorphism and polymorphism; Gustav Rose, the
representative of the perfection of analytical and inorganic chemistry.
In 1823 he brought his first paper on the fulminates of silver and
mercury before the Academy. And now, let me quote to you what
he says of that event in the first work which he ever published. In
the preface, which is a dedication to Alexander von Humboldt, he
says that at the meeting of the Academy, on the 28th of July, 1823,
he had read his paper, and was just engaged in packing up his appa
ratus and preparations, when a man, one of the members of the Acad
emy, approached him, entered into conversation with him, and in an
incredibly short space of time knew how to elicit from him all his
hopes, schemes, and intentions. He did not dare to ask, either from
shyness or from accident, who the gentleman was who spoke to him,
and he disappeared again among the academicians. But he says:
"From that day all the doors of society, and of all institutions, were
open to me. I did not know until many years afterward to whom I
owed this introduction and favor." It was to Humboldt, who had so
well recommended him to the great French chemists that Gay-Lussac,
who never took any pupil whatever into his laboratory, accepted him
as his only pupil, and, more than that, joined with him in his continu
ation of those researches which at that early age he had brought to
such perfection. This preface is beautiful in its conception and feel
ing, and has been printed in all the seven editions of the work which
have since been published. If there were time this would, perhaps,
be the place to show the wonderful influence which Humboldt has
exercised upon the science of all countries; but I must pass over
that subject, and continue the account of Liebig s life.

Through the recommendations of Humboldt and Gay-Lussac, both
of which were addressed directly to the Grand-duke of Hesse-Darm
stadt, Liebig was, at the age of twenty-one years, by the supreme will
and absolute power of the grand-duke, appointed first Professor of

54 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Chemistry in the University of Giessen. A new chair was established
for him, and as a laboratory he received a room, as he expresses it,
with four walls. Great was the opposition against this new professor ;
for what was chemistry? Chemistry was no science, nobody knew
anything of chemistry, nobody would have it. Moreover, the appoint
ment had not been made in the regular way, therefore the whole of
the authorities of the university set themselves against it. The con
sequence was that the majority of that university persecuted that
man for twenty-seven years ; and, no matter what was his reputation,
the amount of his work, or the importance of his position, for twenty-
seven years this man could never once be made Rector of the Univer
sity of Giessen. But where are the opposing influences now ? History
will not mention their names. Their ultramontane participators tried
to decry the great man as an atheist and materialist, and by that
means to remove from him the assistance of the state, and to diminish
his chance of gaining a living. But he was too strong for all of them.
In the year 1826 he was appointed Professor in Ordinary, a promotion
by which he became a fixed servant of the state and a fixed member
of the university. In that year he married Henrietta Moldenhauer,
a most amiable lady, who now survives him.

Now comes the period of work which lasted to the year 1834. The
work itself I will not now enter upon, but we will, in future lect
ures, see what was the nature of that work. We will perform before
your eyes some of those operations by which that work has become
of the utmost importance to mankind at large; and you can then see
how, from a small point, there can be a light shed upon the largest
problems of science.

In this year 1834, however, Liebig fell ill from overwork and anxie
ty. A portrait, which was taken at that time by the now deceased
painter Engel, gives evidence of that, and I remember that the late
Prof. Zamminer told me that he had seen Liebig about that time
taking short walks in the evening air, looking pale and haggard, like
a man in consumption, with little spots of hectic on his cheeks, and
that his friends were afraid he would soon die. At that time he re
tired from Giessen for a while, and went to Baden-Baden, in the hope
of recruiting his health. The patience which he had exercised for
many years, under the most narrow arrangements, then gave way, and
he asked for the building of a new lecture-room, the arrangement of
a proper laboratory, and for an increase of salary. All was refused
by the narrow-minded Government of Hesse-Darmstadt, through that
close-minded man, the then chancellor, Yon Linde. Then Liebig
wrote to Yon Linde a letter, in which, after the introduction, he con
tinues thus :

"I should have gained some convenience by these arrangements, but they
were not intended for me personally ; they would have been of lasting value for
the university, and would have secured to the chemical chair an advantage over

CHARACTER AND WORK OF LIEBIG. 55

all others in Germany. For the institutions of a university the largest sums
may be expended, for this increases the respect and affection for them ; but the
suitable employment of these sums must be strictly controlled. The sums are
there, but they are used in an intolerably ridiculous manner. I must be certain
of what I may have to expect at Giessen. If driven to extremities I shall not
return there this winter, whether I obtain leave or not. I shall know how to
justify this step, for no one has been maltreated in the university in a more
conspicuous manner. One cannot live at Giessen upon a salary of 800 florins.
Four years ago I, in conjunction with four colleagues, asked for an increase
of salary; it has been refused. You (the Chancellor von Linde) have as
sured me with smiles that the state treasury had no funds; from this I saw
that you have never known grief and torturing care for the daily bread. From
the moment of that refusal I have endeavored to acquire an independent posi
tion by ceaseless work ; my exertions have not been without success, but they
have surpassed my strength, and I have become an invalid ; and if now, when
I do not require the state any longer, I consider that with a few miserable hun
dred florins more my health need not have suffered in former years, because my
life would have been more free from care, the hardest thought for me is that my
situation was known to you. The means which the laboratory possesses have
been too small from the beginning. I had four walls given to me instead of a
furnished laboratory. Notwithstanding my requests, no sum for furnishing the
same, or for buying apparatus, has been provided. I required instruments and
specimens, and have been obliged to spend on these items annually from 300 to
400 florins from my own means; besides the famulus paid by the state I re
quired an assistant, who costs me 320 florins deduct both expenses from my
salary, and there remains not enough to clothe my children,. From this original
treatment of the laboratory the consequence has arisen that it possesses no
property, for I can show that the arrangements, fittings, instruments, specimens,
which have made the Giessen laboratory I can say it without blushing the
first in Germany, are my property. I will say nothing more about myself my
account with Giessen is closed. My path is not the one of reptiles, the easiest
though the dirtiest. What I have said will suffice to justify with the ministry
and the prince my resolution not to lecture at Giessen during this winter (1834-
35). If I am in health I may not lack the poweT to establish a kind of univer
sity for my branches of science at my own risk. If I am not permitted, and if
I receive my conge, this will free me from the charge of ingratitude toward the
country from the means of which my scientific training has been possible. I have
learned to bear much injustice, many a false judgment, but this reproach of in
gratitude would be too heavy for me to bear."

This letter pictures to you the conditions which prevailed at Darm
stadt, but it is still more important, because it shows that such strong
language was required to bring down the ministry, and that which no
kind of friendly representation had been able to effect, this threat did.
In 1835 he had to take compulsory repose. I find in the list of his
publications only three small papers dating from this period, of which
one only was a research ; but in almost every other year there were
from ten to twenty researches and publications.

In 1836 another active period begins. In that year there were
nine researches by himself alone, thirteen by himself and Pelouze. In
1837 there were nine researches by himself and five with WOhler, in-

5 6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

eluding the celebrated one on lithic acid, and two with the celebrated
French chemist Dumas. In that year the British Association for the
Advancement of Science, at their Liverpool meeting, made a request
to him to write a report on the then state of knowledge of organic
chemistry. It was this report which originated the work which he
published in 1840, namely, the work entitled "Organic Chemistry in
its Application to Agriculture and Physiology." In 1838 he pub
lished a memoir on the state of chemistry in Austria, in which he ex
hibited its shortcomings in trenchant language, and the effect upon
the Austrian Government was such as no one would have expected.
In reply to his essay he received the offer of a chair at Vienna.
" Come to us," they said, " reform our chemistry, and we will give
you a chair." But the conditions were not sufficient, and the Aus
trian Government, having received Liebig s refusal to go to Vienna,
at their own expense sent a number of young chemists to Giessen,
there to study chemistry under Liebig, and to prepare themselves for
the important function of becoming teachers of the new chemistry in
Austria. In the year 1840 he published the work which I have already
mentioned, and he also published a memoir on the state of chemistry
in Prussia. You know what was the state of Prussia in 1840; the
promises made by the king in the year 1813, regarding a liberal con
stitution, had all been falsified, a narrow-minded bureaucracy gov
erned everything, a minister of education who did not comprehend
his time could not understand that physical science required any pro
motion, or any state help. He soon went into that movement which
has been described as Muckerthum, a kind of pietism which shows itself
by casting up the eyes in a praying attitude, having God more on the
tongue than in the heart ; by a mock-modest morality which would,
for example, have caused the council of this institution to have those
beautiful nymphs on our walls painted over with drapery. Under
these circumstances no science could progress, and there was not in
the whole of Prussia a single establishment, laboratory, or teaching-
room where a man could learn practical or even theoretical chemistry.
It was the great boast of even talented teachers of chemistry, that all
the apparatus they required for teaching was a dozen test-tubes.
This attack on the state of chemistry in Prussia had no effect what
ever of a good kind, but, on the contrary, the bureaucracy used its
power and influence to prevent the Prussian youth from visiting the
University of Giessen, and I have the authority of Kolbe that for a
time the visiting this university was actually forbidden to young
Prussians.

About this period Liebig purchased from the municipality of
Giessen a sand-pit, at a place called Trieb, on a little height east of
the town, and there he made experiments on vegetable physiology.
This place bears the name of " Liebig s Height " to the present day,
and I dare say it will bear it for many years to come. He also pub-

CHARACTER AND WORK OF LIE BIG. S7

lished his work on " Chemistry in its Application to Physiology and
Pathology," which he dedicated to Berzelius. In 1844 appeared his
first " Familiar Letters on Chemistry," in the Augsburg Gazette.
These letters were afterward published with many new ones from time
to time in several editions, and by this means he contributed greatly
to make chemistry popular, while still keeping it in the most scientific
form needful. In 1850 he published a pamphlet on spontaneous com
bustion, on the occasion of the death of the Countess Gorlitz, who had
by experts and doctors at Darmstadt and Giessen been declared to
have perished from spontaneous combustion, but it was afterward
found out that she had not perished in that way, but that she had
been murdered by her butler, and afterward burnt. About this time
also Liebig effected a reform in the medical studies and examinations
in the University of Giessen, and this reform was so important, and
effected by so great a participation of public opinion, that we see
there how great was his power, although in the university itself he
was kept out of office as far as possible. These reforms amounted to
nothing less than this complete liberty of study. You know that in
this country medical students have no liberty of study ; they are
obliged to attend lectures, to have heard at least two-thirds of the lect-

O

ures given, and if it is not certified by the beadle, who comes in to
every lecture and takes the names of all present, that they have been
present at two-thirds of the lectures, they are not allowed to enter for
the examination. This state of things also existed in the German uni
versities previous to this reformation. At that time, however, this was
completely done away with, and every student was allowed to obtain
his knowledge where and how he pleased. He was not obliged to
enter any university whatever, but he was obliged to pass an exami
nation, and to pass that examination publicly, an examination which
should so thoroughly test his knowledge that, after he had passed it
there could be no doubt whatever about his fitness to follow his pro
fession. Now let me recommend to your attention this most remark
able system of public examination. The extraordinary effect it had on
the University of Giessen was this, that, whereas formerly many stu
dents coming unprepared were rejected, since the introduction of pub
lic examinations few rejections have taken place, because the students
take great care to get up their subjects and to come so fully prepared
that, in the presence of tfceir countrymen, in the presence of any per
son who likes to enter the hall when the examination takes place, they
can show that they are. fit to follow their profession.

I have already, I see, passed the time allotted to me, and I shall
not detain you many more minutes. In the autumn of the year 1
Liebig left Giessen, having received a call to the University of Mil
nich, where the then King Maximilian was desirous of following 1
father, Ludwig, on another path of glory. You know that Ludwig
had made it his life-business to restore art in Germany and raise it to

5 8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

a high footing in Bavaria, and Maximilian now wished to do the same
thing for science in general, and he therefore endeavored to collect
from all parts of Germany the best men whom he could attract. One
of these was Liebig, the king having made him president of the Acad
emy, with the condition that he should undertake no laboratory teach
ing ; that he should deliver lectures only, and at the same time be
the Curator of the Botanical Gardens. In that position he remained
up to his death, devoting himself mainly to the public part of his
duties, which lie performed with grace, honor, and glory, and in the
laboratory which had been constructed for his own immediate wants
he only performed such analyses, partly himself, and partly by a num
ber of assistants, as were necessary to give him the data for the pub
lication of his several works.

At last, in the year 1873, on April 18th, he died, nearly seventy
years of age, and in full possession of his faculties, not having, as
other philosophers have had the pain of doing, experienced any dimi
nution of his mental powers.

CAROLINE LUCKETIA HEESCHEL.

BY ELIZA A. YOUMANS.

II.

WHATEVER may be thought of the intellectual differences be
tween men and women, the broad mental contrast between
Caroline Herschal and her brother Sir William Herschel is undeniable.
Intellectual activity and a love of knowledge for its own sake influ
enced his boyhood, characterized his manhood, and dominated his
whole life. He became an eminent astronomer because his passion for
physical inquiry, directed toward the constitution of the universe, mas
tered every other sentiment of his nature. But the mind of Caroline
Herschel was of another mould. She learned various things, from a
desire to please her friends and to earn her living; but there is no evi
dence that she ever studied anything from a love of knowledge. Her
whole life was inspired by purely personal feelings. In a former arti
cle we saw how submissively she delved for the family throughout her
youth, and left them full of concern about their daily comforts. It
was an all-absorbing love for her brother which led her to study as
tronomy, and at his death her devotion to science ended. Some peo
ple, perhaps, will admire her less on this account ; yet, while it dimin
ishes her claims as a philosopher, it certainly increases her claims as a
woman. The tendency of women to act from intense personal motives
is a fact of vital moment to the community, because the very existence
of the family depends upon it; and it is difficult to imagine any future

CAROLINE LUC RET I A HERSCHEL. 59

phase of society, of which the family is a factor, where engrossing
personal feeling will not continue to be a supreme womanly trait.

Resuming our history, we find that on the 1st of August, 1782, the
Herschels with their instruments and furniture arrived at Datchet, and
took possession of a large and neglected old house, with garden and
grounds overgrown with weeds. Having no female servant, Miss
Herschel was shown the shops by the gardener s wife, and her
practical sense was at once shocked at the prices of everything, from
coal to butcher s meat. But her brother w T as not disturbed by such
considerations. He had stables where he could grind mirrors, a roomy
laundry for a library, a large grass-plot for his instruments, and "he
gayly assured her that they could live on eggs and bacon, which
would cost nothing to speak of, now they were really in the country."
After a couple of months the younger brother went back to Bath to
resume his occupations in music ; and it was this separation which
awakened Caroline to a consciousness of what she was doing in giving
up the prospect of becoming independent in the musical profession.
But she reconciled herself to the situation by the thought that her
brother William could not do without her, and that she had not spirit
enough to throw herself upon the public without his protection. Soon
after Alexander s departure, William had to go away for a week or
ten days, and she was left alone. She thus describes her feelings in
entering upon her new work :

" In my brother s absence from home, I was, of course, left solely to amuse
myself with my own thoughts, which were anything but cheerful. I found I
was to be trained for an assistant astronomer, and, by way of encouragement, a
telescope adapted for sweeping, consisting of a tube with two glasses, such as
are commonly used in a finder, was given me. I was to sweep for comets,
and I see by my journal that I began August 22, 1782, to write down and de
scribe all remarkable appearances I saw in my sweeps, which were horizontal.
But it was not till the last two months of the same year that I felt the least en
couragement to spend the starlight nights on a grass-plot covered with dew or
hoar-frost, without a human being near enough to be within call ; for I knew
too little of the real heavens to be able to point out every object so as to find it
again without losing too much time by consulting the atlas. But all these
troubles were removed when I knew my brother to be at no great distance,
making observations with his various instruments on double stars, planets, etc.,
1 and I could have his assistance immediately when I found a nebula, or cluster
of stars, of which I intended to give a catalogue ; but, at the end of 1783, I had
only marked fourteen, when my sweeping was interrupted by being employed
to write down my brother s observations with the large twenty-foot. I had,
however, the comfort to see that my brother was satisfied with, my endeavors to
assist him when he wanted another person, either to run to the clocks, write
down a memorandum, fetch and carry instruments, or measure the ground with
poles, etc., of which something of the kind every moment would occur."

The summer months of 1783 were spent in getting the large twenty-
foot ready for the next winter. After some account of her brother s
many and incessant occupations, she says he also threw away some

60 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

trouble in the effort to teach her to remeasure double stars with the
micrometers used in former measurements, and a small twenty-foot
was given her for the purpose. She had also to use a borrowed tran
sit-instrument to find their places, but after many failures it was seen
that the instrument was as much in fault as herself. She thus con
tinues her account of her experiences :

"July 8th (1783) I began to use the Newtonian small sweeper, but it could
hardly be expected that I should meet with any comets in the part of the heavens
where I swept, for I generally chose my situation by the side of my brother s
instrument, that I might be ready to run to the clock or write down memoran
dums. In the beginning of December I became entirely attached to the writing-
desk, and had seldom an opportunity after that time of using my newly-acquired
instrument. My brother began his series of sweeps when the instrument was
yet in a very unfinished state, and my feelings were not very comfortable when
every moment I was alarmed by a crack or fall, knowing him to be elevated
fifteen feet or more on a temporary cross-beam instead of a safe gallery. The
ladders had not even their braces at the bottom ; and one night, in a very high
wind, he had hardly touched the ground before the whole apparatus came down.
Some laboring-men were called up to help in extricating the mirror, which was
fortunately uninjured; but much work was cut out for carpenters next day.
That my fears of danger and accidents were not wholly imaginary, I had an un
lucky proof on the night of the 31st of December. The evening had been cloudy,
but about ten o clock a few stars became visible, and in the greatest hurry all
was got ready for observing. My brother, at the front of the telescope, directed
me to make some alteration in the lateral motion, which was done by machinery,
on which the point of support of the tube and mirror rested. At each end of the
machine or trough was an iron hook, such as butchers use for hanging their joints
upon, and, having to run in the dark on ground covered a foot deep with melt
ing snow, I fell on one of these hooks, which entered my right leg above the
knee. My brother s call, Make haste! I could only answer by a pitiful cry,
I am hooked! He and the workmen were instantly with me, but they could
not lift me without leaving nearly two ounces of my flesh behind. The work
man s wife was called, but was afraid to do anything, and I was obliged to be
my own surgeon by applying aquabusade and tying a kerchief about it for some
days, till Dr. Lind, hearing of ray accident, brought me ointment and lint, and
told me how to use them. At the end of six weeks I began to have some fears
about my poor limb, and asked again for Dr. Lind s opinion ; he said if a soldier
had met with such a hurt he would have been entitled to six weeks nursing in
a hospital. I had, however, the comfort to know that my brother was no loser
through this accident, for the remainder of the night was cloudy, and several
nights afterward afforded only a few short intervals favorable for sweeping, and,
until the 16th of January, there was no necessity for my exposing myself for a
whole night to the severity of the season. I could give a pretty long list of ac
cidents which were near proving fatal to my brother as well as myself."

Her account of the years 1784 and 1785 is varied by reminiscences
of the trouble her brother had in trying to live and pursue his as
tronomical observations on 200 a year. The book contains many
incidental allusions to royal patronage that are not flattering; but,
notwithstanding the silence of her diary upon so many matters of real

CAROLINE LUCRETIA HERSCHEL. 61

consequence, she always chronicles the attentions bestowed upon her
brother and herself by kings and nobles. Most of her brother s time
was spent in making and selling telescopes for other observers, in
stead of finishing a thirty or forty foot instrument for his own use,
upon which his heart was set. The king ordered many seven-foot and
four ten-foot telescopes, one of which was to be sent as a present to
the observatory at Gottingen. Meantime, through the influence of Sir
Joseph Banks, 2,000 had been granted to Herschel, to enable him
to make an instrument for himself. After living in Datchet four years,
they moved to Slough, in April, 1786, and it was here that Herschel
put up his famous telescope, and fixed his residence for the rest of
his life.

SIR WILLIAM HERSCHEL S FORTY-FOOT TELESCOPE AT SLOUGH.

In July of this year he went to Germany to deliver the ten-foot
telescope from the king, leaving Caroline in charge of matters , at 1
The stand for the forty-foot telescope was finished, and he left a smit
at work on the tube. The mirror was also pretty far advanced,
in- this absence of her brother Miss Herschel discovered her f

62 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

comet. Her diary and letters belonging to this period are very in
teresting. Her brother left on the 3d, and on that day she cleaned
and put the polishing-room in order, made the gardener clear the
work- yard, and mend the fences. " 5th. Spent the morning in needle
work . . . . " " 6th. Put the philosophical letters in order, and the
collection of each year in a separate corner . . . . " " 12th. Put
paper in press for a register . . . . " " 18th. Spent the day in ruling
paper for the register, except that at breakfast I cut out ruffles for
shirts . . . . " " <29th. I paid the smith . . . . "

It was on the 1st of August that she first saw the comet. We
give her diary at this time in full :

"August 1st. I have counted 100 nebulae to-day ; and this evening I saw
an object which, I believe, to-morrow night will prove to be a comet.

U 2d. To-day I calculated 150 nebulas. I fear it will not be clear to-night.
It has been raining throughout the whole day, but seems now to clear up a little.
One o clock. The object of last night is a comet.

" 3d. I did not go to rest till I had wrote to Dr. Blagden and Mr. Aubert,
to announce the comet."

In the letter to Dr. Blagden she says :

"The employment of writing down the observations when my brother uses
the twenty-foot reflector does not often allow me time to look at the heavens ;
but, as he is now on a visit to Germany, I have taken the opportunity to sweep in
the neighborhood of the sun in search of comets; and last night, the 1st of
August, about ten o clock, I found an object very much resembling in color and
brightness the 27 nebulae of the Connoissance des Temps, with the difference,
however, of being round. I suspected it to be a comet; but, a haziness coming
on, it was not possible to satisfy myself as to its motion till this evening."

After describing the object and its position, she concludes:

"You will do me the favor of communicating these observations to my
brother s astronomical friends."

Dr. Blagden replied on August 5th that no one but herself had yet
seen the comet, but that he had spread the news of her discovery in
England, France, and Germany. August 7th Mr. Aubert wrote to
her that he did not find the comet till the 5th on account of cloudy
weather. He says :

"I wish you joy most sincerely on the discovery. I am more pleased than
you can well conceive that you have made it, and I think I see your wonderfully
clever and wonderfully amiable brother, upon the news of it, shed a tear of joy.
You have immortalized your name, and you deserve such a reward for your
assiduity in the business of astronomy, and for your love for so celebrated and
deserving a brother."

We give place to the friendly expressions of these gentlemen, and
others that will follow, to show that Miss Herschel was not hindered
in her scientific career by the jealousy or antagonism of male rivals,

CAROLINE LUCRETIA HERSCHEL. 63

of which ambitious women complain so much in these degenerate days.
She continues the diary of her labors :

" 4th. I wrote to Hanover ; booked my observations ; made accounts. The
night is cloudy.

" 5th. Calculated nebulae all day. The night was tolerably fine, and I saw
the comet.

" Qth. I booked my observations of last night. Eeceived a letter from Dr.
Blagden in the morning, and in the evening Sir J. Banks, Lord Palmerston, and
Dr. Blagden, came and saw the comet. The evening was very fine.

"7th and 8th. Booked my observations. On the 8th the evening was
cloudy.

" 9th. I calculated 100 nebula.

" 10th. Calculated 100 nebulaa. The smith borrowed a guinea.

" llth. I completed, to-day, the catalogue of the first thousand.

"13A. Prof. Kratzensteine, from Copenhagen, was here to-day. In the
evening I saw the comet, and swept.

" l-ith. I calculated 140 nebulae to-day, which brought me up to the last-
discovered nebulae, and therefore the work is finished."

Miss Herschel says it is impossible for her to give an account of
all that passed around her in the following two years, for they were
spent in a perfect chaos of business.

But in 1788, after he was fifty years old, her brother married a
wealthy widow, of about the same age as Miss Herschel. It is said
by the editor that the wife was very amiable and gentle, and that the
jointure she brought enabled her husband to pursue his scientific ca
reer without anxiety about expenses. But this was evidently not so.
We must infer from the statements of Miss Herschel that this wealth,
like royal patronage, was not applied to relieve Sir William from
drudgery ; for, to the end of her brother s life, she complains that,
instead of pursuing original investigations, he had to spend an enor
mous amount of time and labor making and selling telescopes ; and
that the fatigue and exhaustion from polishing mirrors told seriously
upon his health. In 1805, more than a dozen years after his marriage,
we .hear of his finishing an instrument for the King of Spain, and at
about the same time another for the Prince of Canino. She further
says that he was miserably stinted for room for his instruments, and
continually bemoans the embarrassments and hinderances which de
feated his plans of study, and asserts that, during the last years of his
life, his spirits were depressed and his temper soured by these cir
cumstances.

In her diary, all that Miss Herschel says of her brother s marriage
is this :

" It may easily be supposed that I must have been fully employed (besides
minding the heavens) to prepare everything as well as I could against the time
I was to give up the place of housekeeper on the 8th of May."

When, in after-years, she was preparing the materials for her biog-

64 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

raphy, which were to be sent to Sir John Herschel, the son of this new
sister-in-law, she destroyed all her diary and records for the ten years
immediately succeeding her brother s marriage. Her biographer and
relative alludes to her experiences at this time in the following lan
guage :

"With saddened heart but unflagging determination she continued to work
for her brother, but saw his domestic happiness pass into other keeping. It is
not to be supposed, however, that a nature so strong and a heart so affectionate
should accept the new state of things without much and bitter suffering. To
resign the supreme place by her brother s side, which she had filled for sixteen
years with such hearty devotion, could not be otherwise than painful in any
case ; but how much more so in this, where equal devotion to the same pursuit
must have made identity of interest and purpose as complete as it is rare ! One
who could both feel and express herself so strongly was not likely to fall into
her new place without some outward expression of what it cost her tradition
confirms the assumption and it is easy to understand how this long, significant
silence is due to the light of later wisdom and calmer judgment which counseled
the destruction of all record of what was likely to be painful to survivors."

In reference to Herschel s marriage, a writer in the London Ex
aminer says, "It is impossible to regret or censure the step which
gave existence to his yet more remarkable son ; " but this is a sin
gular and tardy justification. In marrying, he did what it was highly
probable he would do ; and, remembering this, he should not have
allowed his sister to live so entirely for him. It is not to be supposed,
however, that he foresaw the unpleasant consequences that fell upon
her. When the temptation to marry came, he no doubt stupidly fan
cied that in enriching his own life by this new relation he should add
to her happiness by bringing her a sister ; but, if he had studied the
ways of men and women as he studied the heavens, he might have
saved himself from such a delusion.

The work she did during the next ten years affords abundant
evidence of the heroism with which Miss Herschel met her fate.
Besides discovering seven more comets, she prepared " A Catalogue
of 860 Stars observed by Flamstead, but not included in the British
Catalogue," and "A General Index of Reference to Every Observa
tion of Every Star in the above-mentioned British Catalogue," both
of which works were published by the Royal Society in 1798. She
also spent much time upon another work which was not finished for
many years. It was " The Reduction and Arrangement in the Form
of a Catalogue, in Zones, of all the Star-Clusters and Nebulae observed
by Sir W. Herschel in his Sweeps." For this she received the gold
medal of the Royal Astronomical Society in 1828, and it was pro
nounced by Sir David Brewster " a work of immense labor."

Some account of her discoveries was found in a packet wrapped in
coarse paper, and labeled " This is what I call the bills and receipts
of my comets." The separate parcels of this bundle were marked

CAROLINE LUCRETIA HERSCHEL. 65

" First Comet," " Second Comet," etc. She announced the discovery
of her second comet to Dr. Maskelyne, the royal astronomer, in the
following letter, with a postscript by her brother :

" DEAE SIE : Last night, December 21st, at 7 h 45 , I discovered a comet, a
little more than one degree south, preceding /3 Lyrse. This morning, between
five and six, I saw it again, when it appeared to have moved about a quarter of
a degree toward 6 of the same constellation. I beg the favor of you to take it
under your protection.

"Mrs. Herschel and my brothers join with me in compliments to Mrs. Mas
kelyne and yourself, and I have the honor to remain,

" Dear sir, your most obliged, humble servant,

" CAEOLINE HEBSCHEL.
" SLOTJGH, December 22, 1788."

" P. S. The comet precedes (3 Lyra3 7 5" in time, and is in the parallel of the
small star (j3 being double). See fifth class, third star, of my catalogue.

" WILLIAM HEBSCHEL."

Her brother announced her discovery to Sir J. Banks and Sir H.
Englefield, and from these gentlemen she received the most cordial
congratulations. Two years later, on January 7, 1790, the third comet
was discovered, and on the 17th of April, the same year, when her
brother was absent, she announced her fourth comet to Sir Joseph
Banks in the following words :

u April 19th.

" SIE: I am very unwilling to trouble you with incomplete observations, and
for that reason did not acquaint you yesterday with the discovery of a comet.
I wrote an account of it to Dr. Maskelyne and Mr. Aubert, in hopes that one of
them woujd furnish me with the means of pointing it out in a proper manner.
But as several days may pass before my letters are answered, or my brother re
turns, I would not be thought neglectful, and if you think the following descrip
tion sufficient, and that more of my brother s astronomical friends should be
made acquainted with it, I should be very happy if you would be so kind as to
do it for the sake of astronomy."

Then follows an account of the comet. The letter, written on the
day previous, to Mr. Aubert, we give entire :

" SLOUGH, April 18, 1790.

"DEAE SIE: I am almost ashamed to write you, because I never think of
doing so but when I am in distress. I found, last night, at 16" 24 , sidereal
time, a comet, and do not know what to do with it, for my new sweeper is not
half finished; and, besides, I broke the handle of the perpendicular motion .in
my brother s absence (who is on a little tour in Yorkshire). He furnished me to
that instrument a rhomboides, but the wires are too thin, and I have no means
for illuminating them. All my hopes were that I should find nothing to make
me feel the want of these things in his absence; but, as it happens, here u
object in a place where there is no nebula, or anything which could 1,
comet, and I would be much obliged to you, sir, if you would look at t
where the annexed eye-draft will direct you to. My brother has swept i
part of the heavens, and has many nebula there, but none which I raw
to see with my instrument. I will not write to Sir J. Banks or Dr. Maskelyne,

VOL. IX. 5

66 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

or anybody, till you, sir, have seen it ; but if you could, without much trouble,
give my best respects, and that part of this letter which points out the place of
the comet, to Mr. Wollaston, you would make me very happy.

"I am, dear sir, etc., etc., 0. H."

From all these gentlemen her labors and discoveries received the
most cordial recognition. In his reply, Sir J. Banks said : " I shall
take care to make our astronomical friends acquainted with the obli
gations they are under to your diligence." Mr. Aubert closes his let
ter with the assurance of the pleasure he felt at her success, and
with the offer of any instrument she might wish to use; while Dr.
Maskelyne addressed her as his " worthy sister in astronomy."

The fifth comet was discovered December 15, 1791, and all that
she says about it is, " My brother wrote an account of it to Sir J. Banks,
Dr. Maskelyne, and several other gentlemen." The sixth, found Oc
tober 8th, is briefly recognized ; and the seventh, discovered Novem
ber 7, 1795, is known as Encke s comet, because he determined its
periodicity. It was discovered by four different observers before its
identity was recognized. Miss Herschel was its second discoverer in
order of time. Her eighth and last comet was discovered August 6,
1797.

We learn from her diary that in October of this year her home
with her brother at Slough was broken up, and she went to live in
solitude in lodgings, arid this mode of life she continued for twenty-
five years, till her brother s death, when she left England to join her
relations in Hanover. Why she left her brother s house she does not
explain, nor is it necessary. In referring to her departure she only
says : " My telescopes on the roof, to which I was to have occasional
access, as ^also the room with the sweeping and observing apparatus,
remained in their former order, where I most days spent some hours in
preparing work to go on with at my lodgings." In a letter to Dr.
Maskelyne, written in September, 1798, she says that, during the past
year, she has not thought herself " well or in spirits enough to vent
ure from home." She spent her first lonely winter in getting ready
for the press some of her own astronomical work.

The account of her life from 1798 until her brother s death, in
1822, occupies about fifty pages of the volume,, and consists mostly of
extracts from her diary. It is not a record of discoveries or personal
triumphs, but of unceasing labor for her brother, knowing no respite
in sickness or in health, by night or by day, in winter or in summer,
amid hardships and discouragements that never daunted her affection
ate nature. During her first year in lodgings, she complains of being
harassed by the loss of time in going backward and forward, and by
not having immediate access to books and papers ; and these troubles,
with varying features, pursued her to the end of her brother s life.
The first three or four years she changed her lodgings often, but in
1301 -she settled in HJpton, where she remained till 1810, at which time

CAROLINE LUCRETIA HERSCHEL. 67

she took possession of a cottage in Slough, belonging to her brother,
and, although mention is made in her diary of moving again in 1814,
yet she continued to live in Slough.

Notwithstanding all her prudence about paining relations, the
multiplied repetition in her diary of such entries as the following is
painfully suggestive :

" March 5th. Went to make some stay with my brothers at Slough, Mrs.
Herschel being in town.

" With. All returned, and I went with my work to Upton again.

" September 24^. Went to work with my brother at Slough.

" October 1st. Mrs. Herschel and niece returned. I went back to Upton.

" August 1st. I left Upton for Slough. My brother went with Mrs. Herschel
and Miss Baldwin on an excursion. I distracted my thoughts by undertaking an
amazing deal of work.

"September Sth. My brother and family returned, and I went with my
works to Upton.

" May Zd. I left Upton for Slough to work with my brother ; Mrs. Herschel
being in town till June 18th.

"November 3d. I came home to Upton (Mrs. Herschel returned from Brigh
ton), but went most days to assist my brother in the polishing-room or library,
and, from the 10th of December to the 22d, was entirely at Slough, Mrs. Her
schel being away.

"January. I had a cough all the month; the communication between
Slough and Upton very troublesome to me.

"March 9th. Went to Slough to work with my brother; his family from
home.

" May llth. Went to be with my brother; Mrs. Herschel went to town
for a month.

" June 12,th. Mrs. Herschel returned from town, and I went home."

It is pleasant to find, however, that the asperities of this period
of her life were so much softened by time and distance that in 1829,
when living in Hanover, she was able to write to her sister-in-law,
confidentially as to " a dear sister, for as such I now know you."

The diary closes in 1822, with an account of her brother s death,
and her departure from England. We quote the following charac
teristic passage relating to this period. She had come as usual to
spend the morning with her brother :

"August 15th. I hastened to the spot where I was wont to find him, with
the newspaper which I was to read to him. But instead I found Mrs. Morson,
Miss Baldwin, and Mr. Bulman, from Leeds, the grandson of my brother s earli
est acquaintance in this country. I was informed my brother had been obliged
to return to his room, whither I flew immediately. Lady Herschel and the
housekeeper were with him, administering everything which could be thought
of for supporting him. I found him much irritated at not being able to grant
Mr. Bulman s request for some token of remembrance for his father. As soon
as he saw me, I was sent to the library to fetch one of his last papers, and a
plate of the forty-foot telescope. But, for the universe, I could not have looked
twice at what I had snatched from the shelf, and when he faintly asked if the

68 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

breaking up of the milky-way was in it, I said Yes, and he looked content. I
cannot help remembering this circumstance : it was the last time I was sent to
the library on such an occasion."

Her brother William died on the 25th of August, and in the fol
lowing October she settled in Hanover with her brother Dietrich.

When her brother died she was herself in feeble health, and ex
pected soon to follow him to the grave, and it suited her feelings to
go back to Hanover to die. Besides, she says :

" My whole life almost has passed away in the delusion that, next to rny el
dest brother, none but Dietrich was capable of giving me advice where to leave
my few relics, consisting of a, few books and my sweeper. And for the last
twenty years I kept to the resolution of never opening my lips to my dear
brother William about worldly or serious concerns, let me be ever so much at a
loss for knowing right from wrong. And so it happened that, at a time when I
was stupefied by grief at seeing the death of my dear brother, I gave myself
with all I was worth (500 of bank-stock) to my brother Dietrich and his
family, and, from that time till the death of Dietrich, I found great difficulty to
remain mistress of my own actions and opinions. In respect to the latter we
never could agree."

Her brother William, however, left her a legacy of 100 a year,
and during the rest of her life her chief study was how to spend this
sum without making herself ridiculous.

As was to be expected, after fifty years absence she found Han
over changed in everything, and little to her taste, and she was also
grievously disappointed in the generation of relatives with whom she
lived, and of whom she says :

" They have never been of the least use to me, and for all the good I have
lavished on them they never came to look after me, but when they had some
design upon me."

In speaking of her return to Hanover, her biographer writes thus :

"Who can think of her at the age of seventy-two, heart-broken and deso
late, going back to the home of her youth to find consolation without a pang
of pity ? She little guessed how much her habits had changed in the different
world where she had lived for fifty years. She had the bitterness to find her
self alone with her great sorrow."

We have no space to give to this part of her life, although it occu
pies more than half of the volume, to which we must refer our readers.
It is made up chiefly of her correspondence, and her letters, from their
unconscious self-portraiture, are quite as interesting as her "Diary"
or her "Recollections." It is full of interest also on account of the
details it gives concerning the life of Sir William Herschel, of whom
no reliable biography has yet appeared.

She died peacefully in 1848, and her funeral was held in the same
garrison-church where she was christened and confirmed. According
to a request made to her favorite niece, a lock of her brother s hair,

AWARDS AT THE INTERNATIONAL EXHIBITION. 69

and an almost obliterated almanac, that had been used by her father
were placed with her in her coffin. The same niece, in a letter written
at this time to her cousin, Sir John Herschel, says :

"I felt almost a sense of joyful relief at the death of my aunt, iu the thought
that now the unquiet heart was at rest. All that she had of love to give was
concentrated on her beloved brother. . . . She looked upon progress in science
as so touch detraction from her brother s fame, and even your investigations
would have become a source of estrangement had she been with you."

AWARDS AT THE INTERNATIONAL EXHIBITION.

KEPORT OF HON. N. M. BECKWITH, COMMISSIONER FROM NEW YORK, ON
THE SELECTION AND APPOINTMENT OF JUDGES.

AT a regular meeting of the Executive Committee of the United
States Centennial Commission, held at Philadelphia, October
13, 1875, Mr. Beckwith, Commissioner from New York (United
States Commissioner-General at the International Exhibition at Paris,
1867), presented the following report upon the selection and appoint
ment of judges. It was carefully considered and unanimously ap
proved :

HON. D. J. MOEEELL, Chairman of the Executive Committee.

SIR : In compliance with the request of the Executive Committee, I beg leave
to present for consideration the following suggestions relating to the selection
and appointment of judges, in conformity with the method of awards decreed
by the Centennial Commission.

This method, in many respects, differs radically from the systems hitherto
tried in International Exhibitions, and, although the subject is familiar to you, I
shall be pardoned, I hope, for briefly indicating the broad differences.

Awards have heretofore been generally made by an International Jury of
about six hundred members.

The apportionment of jurors to countries has been tried on various bases,
but was usually made on the basis of the relative space occupied by the products
of each country respectively, in the Exhibition.

The Great Jury was divided into numerous small juries, who examined the
products and prepared lists of the names of persons whom they proposed for
awards, and the proposals thus made were confirmed or rejected by higher
juries.

The awards consisted chiefly of medals of differents values, gold, silver, i-tr.

This system brought together a numerous and incongruous assembly, includ
ing unavoidably many individuals unqualified for the work.

The basis of representation was apparently fair, but its results were delusive.

A few countries nearest the Exhibition, whose products could be collected
and exposed at the smallest proportional expense, occupied large spaces; the
numerous remote countries filled smaller spaces.

The number of jurors allotted to the smaller spaces, when distributed, left

7 o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

them without jurors on most classes, and in the remainder with only a minority
which, in voting on awards, had no weight, and the awards were thus in effect
decreed by the few contiguous countries whose products filled the largest spaces.
Written reports on the products were not usually made by juries, and, if made,
were not generally published; consequently no person outside of the jury was
informed on what ground awards were made.

The medals, when distributed, were as silent as the verdicts ; moral respon
sibility for the decisions attached to no one, and the awards thus made conveyed
as little useful information, and carried as little weight, as anonymous work
usually carries.

Medals, at best, are enigmas. They express nothing exactly and definitely
relative to the products exhibited ; their allegorical designs doubtless have a
meaning in the mind of the artist who makes them, but allegorical designs are
primitive and feeble language, and the medal of to-day is no more than its pred
ecessor, a schoolboy token verdicts upon products determined by majority
votes of juries in which the producing countries are often represented by useless
minorities awards based upon anonymous reports, or reports never published,
and final decisions announced and recorded in the vague and mystic language
of medals, have not proved satisfactory to producers nor to the public. As re
gards the diffusion of reliable and useful information, International Exhibitions
have not come fully up to expectations and to the promise implied in the great
labor and great expenses which they involved; and the wide-spread dissatisfac
tion which has uniformly followed the close of jury-work affords in itself strong
evidence that the system is not well adapted to the purposes of International
Exhibitions.

The method of awards adopted by the Centennial Commission differs from
preceding systems. It dispenses with the International Jury, and substitutes a
body of two hundred judges, one-half foreign, chosen individually for their
high qualifications.

It dispenses, also, with the system of awards by graduated medals, and re
quires of the judges written reports on the inherent and comparative merits of
each product thought worthy of an award, setting forth the properties and
qualities, presenting the considerations forming the ground of the award, and
avouching each report by the signature of its author.

The professional judgment and moral responsibility of the judges being thus
involved, assure the integrity of their reports. As awards to exhibitors, such
reports will be more valuable than medals, in proportion to the greater amount
of reliable information which they convey to the public. Their collected repub-
lication, as hand-books, will form valuable guides for all classes to the most ad
vanced products of every country, and, last and least, the sales of them can
hardly fail to return to the Commission a good portion of their cost.

The success of this method obviously depends on the judicious selection of
the judges, and to this point I desire to call particular attention.

In this connection it may be remarked that the best judges of products are
not usually found among their producers, but among their consumers.

To select a wine, for example, of particular character, one would not apply
to wine-growers, but to dealers and consumers. On the merits of an engine,
you would prefer the opinion of the engineer who uses it, to that of the engi
neer who invented or made it. The sugars and coffees of Brazil, Cuba, Java,
etc., are best judged in the great markets of consumption. In brief, the food-
products of the world find their most accurate appreciations, as regards their
inherent qualities and comparative merits, in the great consuming markets,

RECENT ADVANCES IN TELEGRAPHY. 7 i

where similar products from all regions are gathered, and the practical judgment
of the using and consuming public is pronounced, from which there is no appeal.

The principle in this applies not only to raw products, but in a general sense
to manufactures and to industrial products of all kinds in general use.

In this view of the subject, the method of awards adopted by the Centennial
Commission presents the great advantage that it is judicial rather than repre
sentative, and the Commission is perfectly free to select judges from the best
sources, regardless of localities.

The men to seek for are those who, by their ability, education, character,
and experience, are fittest for the work, and they will be less difficult to find
than to obtain, being generally employed, and frequently connected with large
industries, important works, and the higher institutions to which their superior
qualifications have led them.

Freedom to choose our judges from the best sources cannot fail to produce
good results if the selection be made upon proper investigation, with suitable
care and without favor.

The announcement of this method of awards has been received ia foreign
countries, as far as heard from, with expressions of distinct approbation, and
there can be no doubt that they will select and bring to us their hundred
judges, who will be distinguished by their reliable and solid qualifications, and
it is incumbent on us to select a body of men of character, able and expert in
their respective callings, and equal in attainments and experience to our foreign
cooperatives, with whom our own will be intimately associated.

I need hardly add that the useful results and success of our Exhibition and
the public satisfaction which it should produce, as well as the reputation of this
Commission, as practical and sensible men, depend largely on the selection of
our judges, and finally upon their organization and work. . . .

Kespectfully submitted, N. M. BKCKWITH.

NEW YOBK, October 9, 18T5.

RECENT ADVANCES IN TELEGRAPHY.

BY R. RIOKDAN.

THE improvements in telegraphy, about which the public has lately
been learning a good deal through the newspapers, really con
stitute a remarkable element of progress, and are deserving of sepa
rate consideration. , With the fire-alarm, domestic, and district
graphs in our cities, the reduced rates and increased efficiency of the
$reat lines and the further improvements promised us, it does not
seem too much to expect that the telegraph will soon rival the pos
office and the press as a bearer and diffuser of intelligence.

The failure of the English postal telegraph to fulfill the sangu
prophecies of its advocates will hardly be held to militate again
this view when it shall be shown what the nature of these improve
ments is. Prof. Jevons, in a late number of the Fortnightly Review,
has indicated the causes of this failure. It was taken for grants
the promoters of the scheme, he asserts, that, as in the case

72 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Post-office, a vast increase of business might be done with but little
more expense. Accordingly, to gain the increased business they re
duced the rates one-half, and succeeded but not in a pecuniary sense.
Prof. Jevons ascribes this disappointing result to the great cost of
erecting and maintaining the lines ; to their small carrying capacity
when compared with that of a railroad-train ; and to the number of
hands and heads which each telegraphic message has to pass through
before reaching its destination, and whicji must all be paid. But the
progress of the last five years, made principally in this country, has
demonstrated that these difficulties are not insuperable.

In order of time, the first important step toward this end was the
Duplex Telegraph of Mr. Joseph Stearns, of Boston, Massachusetts. Its
object is to allow of two operators using the same wire to send mes
sages in opposite directions simultaneously. To persons having only
a general acquaintance with the ordinary working of the telegraph,
this at first seemed impossible ; and, when it was accomplished, it was
held by many some scientific men among the number to furnish
an indubitable proof of the theory that the electric waves, or currents,
or whatever they might be held to be, necessarily passed each other
in contrary directions over the wire. That they do not will be evident
from the subjoined explanation.

It must be remembered that the galvanic battery gives birth to a
force which returns in a circuit to where it was generated, and accel
erates the liberation of more force, being like a steam-engine em
ployed partly in fanning its own fire. This circuit can be performed
much more easily through great lengths of some substances, such as
the earth and metals, than through very small spaces of others, as the
air and the dilute acid of the battery. Galvanic electricity is> there
fore, strictly confined in a sort of mill-round ; or it may best, for our
present purposes, be represented by water flowing through such a
system of water-courses as is shown in the annexed cut. We will

FIG. 1.

suppose them to include a reservoir and a secondary circuit at each
end. Let the reservoirs A and B have water pumped into them by
force-pumps, and distributed by them to both the main and secondary
circuits, in equal quantities and in the direction of the arrows, so as
to maintain the water-wheels X and W in the same positions. The
highest points in the system must be supposed to be at the front of the
reservoirs, and the lowest at the back of them.

If an additional volume of water come from A, being equally divided

RECENT ADVANCES IN TELEGRAPHY. 7?

on each side of TFJ it will not move that wheel, but it will move the
wheel X by destroying the balance which previously existed there.
But, if a similar extra volume be at the same time se$t from B, the
pressure in that part of the circuit between TFand X will overcome
the opposing forces at each of the points, and both wheels will be
worked, each virtually by the distant reservoir and not by its own.

If we substitute galvanic batteries for the reservoirs, wires for the
water-courses, and electricity for the water, this gives us the princi
ple of the duplex telegraph, and it is obvious that no currents passing
one another in contrary directions are necessary to it. It will be well to
keep this in mind when we come to describe the quadruplex system.

Following the duplex, the American Automatic system may be
said to have been perfected in 1873. The great rapidity with which
messages are transmitted and recorded by it is its principal advan
tage, but it has others as requiring a smaller force of operators and
less specially skilled. The usual work of a Morse operator is acknowl
edged to be about 1,500 words an hour, and European operators do
not average half as much ; but, by the automatic method, to receive
and print double that number of words per minute is an ordinary feat,
and as many as 7,000 words fourteen pages of this magazine have
been legibly recorded in that time. As every word contains, on an
average, five letters, and as each letter is represented by a varying

Earth

FIG. 2,-MoKSB KEY AXD KEGISTER. (From Deschanel.)

number of dots and dashes, each formed by a separate discharge, the
circuit, it is calculated, must be "closed" and "broken," and the chen
icals in the battery must cease and recommence their action 60,00
times per minute, in the ordinary working of the automatic syst

74 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

In every form of electric telegraph the signals are given by an in
termittent flow of electricity. In the Morse system a " key " is used
which, in its normal position, " breaks " the circuit, but when depressed
by the finger of the operator allows the electricity to pass through it
on its mission. Arrived at the distant station, it is converted, by
means of an electro-magnet, into mechanical motion, which is utilized
either to produce indentations in a moving slip of paper by means of
a style, or, more commonly, to give a series of taps, which the operator
understands, by an instrument called a " sounder."

In the automatic system the means employed are altogether dif
ferent. The message is, first of all, prepared by punching holes in a
narrow ribbon of paper. These perforations are so grouped as to
represent the dots and dashes of the telegraphic alphabet, and by
the punching-machine, which is very complicated, all that are required
to form a letter are punched at one stroke. In comparing the two sys
tems this must not be lost sight of, as the time taken in punching
must, of course, be added to the time of transmission. The machine,
however, does its work more quickly than the Morse operator with
his key, and, the time occupied in transmitting being so vastly less,
the " automatic " may claim to have rendered old-fashioned telegra
phy comparatively slow.

After the perforated slip of paper has been prepared, it is taken to
the operator s table, where it is made to move forward rapidly be
tween a metallic drum and a needle carrying two small steel wheels
which rest upon it. Drum and wheels form part of the circuit, which
is broken by the non-conducting paper interposed and closed wher.
the holes permit of the wheels and the metallic cylinder beneath
coming into contact. At the receiving-station a very similar arrange
ment does duty as a register. The paper slip is there saturated with
a certain chemical solution which renders its w T hole substance a good
conductor, and, instead of the wheels, there is an iron style or " pen."
When electricity arrives over the line, it decomposes the moisture of
the paper into oxygen and hydrogen, and oxidizes or rusts the pen.

D o

O O

FIG. 3.

A little of this oxide is rubbed off by the quickly-moving paper, and
enters into combination with the chemical still contained in it, pro
ducing a stain in the form of a dot or dash which corresponds with
the holes punched in the paper at the sending-station. Where three
holes come together, both wheels form a contact, and a dash is pro
duced, because the second wheel touches the cylinder while the first
passes over the paper between the upper holes.

RECENT ADVANCES IN TELEGRAPHY. 75

The germ of the automatic system, as we have described it, was
contained in the " Chemical Telegraph " invented by Alexander Bain,
a Scotchman, in 1846. Bain was the first to use the perforated paper
to transmit and the chemically-prepared paper to receive the message.
But his invention, from a practical point of view, bears about the
same relation to the American system which the steam-engine as
known to the ancients does to that of James Watt. Bain s system,
improved by the late Sir Charles Wheatstone and known as Wheat-
stone s automatic system, is employed to a limited extent in Great
Britain ; but, thus improved, its speed does not exceed 60 to 10o
words a minute. It is therefore proper to regard the American Au
tomatic Telegraph as a distinct American invention. In its present
form, we owe it to Mr. Thomas A. Edison, of Newark, New Jersey.

The accompanying cut (Fig. 4) illustrates the results of attempting

oo o

FIG. 4.

high speed on the Bain telegraph. Instead of recording themselves
by decided dots and dashe.s, the electric discharges leave indistinct
and elongated traces, which, when the speed amounts to 300 words
or over, run into one another and make a continuous line. This effect
is due to the property which all electrified bodies have of inducing
electricity in neighboring bodies. The earth, reacting on the line wire
suspended above it, induces in it what is called an extra current, both
on closing and breaking the circuit. On first closing the circuit the
extra current runs in the contrary direction to the primary, and re
tards and weakens its action, so that, if suffered to record itself
would do so by a mark like this : ~ the long after-part

being caused partly by the accumulated electricity and partly fc
second extra current which is in the same direction with the pn
one.

6 A

FIG. 5.

By Mr. Edison s plan the evil is made to cure itself. He ..mplj
interposes another wire with a coil, shown at A
This divides the current, one part of which u again subdivided

76 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

reaching the earth, and a moiety of it ascending the ground-line at
D counteracts the first weak installment of the other. Then, as each
turn of the coil, 6 y , acts the part of the earth on the turn next it, the
whole sets up another powerful extra current, which at first forces
the full strength of the main current through the recording instru
ment, and ultimately counteracts the accumulated electricity and the
second extra current due to the earth. In practice, several such lines
are used, and magnets, which are preferable, instead of coils. This
occasions a great loss of electricity, but the sensitiveness of the re
ceiving apparatus is such that less than one-fourth of the total strength
of the current is sufficient to give a good record.

The chemical used by Bain in his sensitized paper was ferrocyanide
of potassium, which, with the oxide from the iron pen and an extra
equivalent of oxygen, forms Prussian blue. The oxygen of the air, it
has been found, protracts this action, and thus arises another source
of confusion, which is not affected by the device just described. A pref
erable combination, requiring only the protoxide of iron, which is
formed immediately by the electricity, is used in the American system.

One of the most curious of the recent discoveries respecting the
chemical action of electricity is that of its usefulness, under certain
circumstances, as a lubricator. During Mr. Edison s experiments on
the automatic telegraph he perceived that, when using a paper soaked
in a certain solution, the pen was apt to slip whenever a discharge
occurred. This effect was found to be so marked that a person draw
ing a strip of metal along the paper leaning rather heavily on it
finds his hand obliged to move in a succession of jerks when signals
are sent by a current powerful enough to overcome the resistance of
his body. On this principle, Mr. Edison has constructed a little in
strument in which a style is kept pressed against the paper by springs
so as to make a continuous indentation, except when the current is
passing. Its record is, therefore, the reverse of that of a Morse regis
ter ; but the " electromotograph," as it is called, differs also from the
" Morse " in being the most sensitive recording instrument known.

Still another of Mr. Edison s inventions is the quadruplex telegraph,
the principal aim of which is, not to augment the speed of signaling,
but, like the duplex, to allow of several persons using the same wire
at one time. In fact, the arrangement may be used as a duplex tele
graph, if required, so that the wire is by it made susceptible of either
double or quadruple employ.

The instruments used are modifications of those of the Morse sys
tem. The " key " has already been shown in Fig. 2, and the changes
made to adapt it to the uses of the quadruplex telegraph may be un
derstood from Fig. 5. The essential part of the receiving instrument
is an electro-magnet, which is shown in Fig. 2, and consists of a bent
bar of soft iron, surrounded at each end by a coil of wire connected
with the wire of the line. The current, passing through these coils,

RECENT ADVANCES IN TELEGRAPHY. 77

communicates to the iron core magnetic properties, and enables it to
attract another piece of iron or steel called its armature ; but, when
the current ceases, the magnetism ceases also, and a spring too weak
to neutralize it draws back the armature. It is shown in section at
3fj in Fig. 6. When the armature and the lever carrying it are dis
carded, and instead of them a jointed tongue of steel, as at PJ/, is
inserted between the poles of the magnet, it will be unaffected by the
current except when a change occurs in its direction. It is then called
a polarized magnet. Its use will be explained a little further on. One

FIG. 6.

of the keys, /i", in the diagram, is provided with a spring, which is
in contact with the metal of the key when this latter is in its normal
position, and maintains across the key a circuit including a portion ot
the battery V. But when the key is depressed the spring comes in
contact with a screw, to which another circuit is connected, apply
ing the full strength of the battery to the line. The circuit across the
key is never broken, because the spring remains in contact with the
arm of the key until it begins to press against the screw. This key
works the magnet M, which has its retractile spring so adjusted as
to be overcome only by the full intensity of the current when the key
is down. The other key, K , is for changing the direction of the cur
rent, and working the polarized magnet, P M. Its construction is such
that, when not in use, one pole of the battery, the positive, for exam
ple, is in connection with the line, and the negative with the earth,
necessitating the passage of the current through the lino in the first
place ; but when the key is touched the negative pole is connect!
" to line " and the positive to earth, reversing the direction
current. These reversals of direction operate, as has been said, tl
polarized magnet P M.

To revert to the illustration we made use of in describing
plex, let the reader picture to himself a water-course in which b

7 8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the direction and the volume of the current can be changed at pleas
ure. He can suppose, in addition to the water-wheels before figured,
and which will indicate the force of the stream, a pair of hinged valves
or gates, which, whether the current be strong or weak, will be moved
only by a change in its direction. The former will represent the or
dinary magnets, and the latter the polarized magnets.

It -is plain that, so far, this is only another form of duplex, sending
two messages in the same direction at once. To make it a quadruplex
telegraph it is necessary, in the first place, to add to it Stearns s du
plex, or a contrivance similar to it. Even then a dead-lock would
happen when the currents sent from each end of the line should be of
the same intensity, and opposite in direction ; that is, when all eight
operators were working together. To remedy this, extra batteries
are introduced, which are neutralized by part of the current in the
main circuit, when that is in a working condition, but are set free to
work the instruments when the currents in the main circuit destroy
one another. In the diagram the extra batteries, etc., have been omit
ted, as also the transmitting apparatus of one station and the record
ing instruments of the other.

Although not strictly coming under its title, because belonging,
as yet, rather to the future, this article would hardly be complete with
out some reference to a scheme of multiplex telegraphy which prom
ises results of the greatest importance. The ingenious magnetic
apparatus used by Prof. Helmholtz, of Berlin, in his researches in
acoustics, was too suggestive not to have inspired more than one in
ventor with the idea of turning it to account in telegraphy. Accord
ingly, several, both here and in Europe, have been trying to realize it,
and it is likely that the magnetically-excited tuning-forks, or the so
norous steel bars which may be substituted for them, will shortly be
heard in every telegraph-office. There seems, so far, to be no ascer
tained limit to the number of distinct musical notes which may be
propagated on a single wire at one time; and, when that limit is
found, it is likely that it may be doubled or quadrupled by means of
the- former systems. The reduction in the cost of erection and main
tenance of wires which this will bring about will be an enormous
saving to telegraph companies, especially to any new ones that may
be formed, or to the Government, if it should undertake the control
and extension of the service.

An interesting experiment of Sir Charles Wheatstone s on the trans
mission of sound through solid linear conductors has, perhaps, helped
to suggest this approaching transformation of the telegraph. An ac
count of it was published in 1831. A narrow wooden rod was attached
at one end to the sounding-board of a piano, and, after passing through
two empty rooms, was joined at the other end to a sounding-board
alone. Any piece of music played on the piano was distinctly heard
by means of the sounding-board in the distant room. And not the

RECENT ADVANCES IN TELEGRAPHY. 79

least confusion ensued from the crowding together, for a considerable
distance, of the multitude of intricately-related vibrations in a rod
having a section of but one square inch.

Prof. Helmholtz s apparatus consisted of a number of electro-mag
nets acting on tuning-forks pitched to particular notes. His object
was so to combine those notes as to demonstrate the formation of
certain harmonious sounds ; but the object of the telegraph-inventors
is the reverse of that, namely, to transmit them in the form of electric
vibrations to a distance, and then as in Wheatstone s experiment
to sift them out again to separate instruments. In most of the plans
so far made public, a fixed steel bar takes the place of the tuning-fork,
and therefore of the armature as welL When attracted by the mag
net, on making a signal, it is of course set vibrating ; and, at every
forward vibratory movement, it closes the circuit and transmits an
electric impulse. A number of such magnets, their sonorous arma
tures sending each a different number of pulsations in a second, may
be working away at once, and the corresponding instruments at the
other end of the line will be acted on only by those which suit their
times of vibration. In other words, of the total number of electric
charges sent into the line, only those will act on any particular mag
net at the receiving end which suffice to cause in its armature the
number of vibrations per second to which it was set. This, of course,
is th same number which was sent by the transmitting instrument
of the same pair. Practically, the different tones are not reproduced
quite unmixed, every armature being capable of responding though
in a less degree, to other notes than its own ; so that the effect on
the ear, at one of the receiving magnets, is like that of a number of
persons talking together in different keys : some quite loudly ; some
in a lower tone; others in a whisper. To remedy this, different forms
of resonators are being tried, adapted to swell the special sounds that
should be heard.

The " electromotograph," described in connection with chemical
telegraphs, is intended, by its inventor, to be used with some form of
this acoustic system. Mr. Gray, of Chicago, another well-known tele
graph-inventor, is also understood to have made considerable prog
ress in this direction.

It is matter of reasonable pride to find, at the commencement <
our second century, the names of Americans so prominently connected
with all the great improvements in the art which owes so much
the labors of Morse and Henry.

80 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

CONSCIENCE IN ANIMALS.

BY G. J. KOMANES, M. A., F. L. S.

AMONG several other topics which are dealt with in an interest
ing article entitled " Animal Depravity " that appeared in the
Quarterly Journal of Science for October last, the writer alludes to the
question as to whether or not the rudiments of a moral sense are dis
cernible in animals. This question I consider to be of so much im
portance from a psychological point of view that, although a great
deal of observation which I have directed toward its enlightenment
has hitherto yielded but small results, I am tempted to publish the
latter, such as they are, in the hope that, if they serve no better end,
they may perhaps induce some other observers to bestow their atten
tion upon this very interesting subject.

I may first briefly state what I conceive to be the theoretical
standing of the subject. At the present day, when the general theory
of evolution is accepted by all save the ignorant or the prejudiced,
the antecedent probability is overwhelming that our moral sense, like
all our other psychological faculties, has been evolved. The question
as to the causes of its evolution has been discussed in the "Descent
of Man," and this with all the breadth of thought and force of fact so
characteristic of the writings which have exerted an influence upon
human thought more profound than has been exerted by the writings
of any other single man not even excepting Aristotle in philosophy
or Newton in science. Mr. Herbert Spencer, also, has treated of this
subject, and, if his wonderful " programme" is ever destined to attain
completion, we may expect copious results when his great powers are
brought to bear upon the "Principles of Morality." Meanwhile,
however, we have ample evidence to render it highly probable that at
any rate the leading causes in the development of our moral sense
have had their origin in the social instincts. Indeed, to any one who
impartially considers this evidence in the light of the general theory
of evolution, it must appear wellnigh incredible that so considerable
a body of proof cati ever admit of being overcome. Nor is this all.
Not only is it true that so much success has attended Mr. Darwin s
method of determining synthetically the causes which have been in
strumental in evolving the moral sense, 1 but, long before any scientific
theory of evolution had been given to the world, our great logician
following in the track of Hume (whose part in this matter has not, I
think, been sufficiently appreciated), Bentham, and others proved

1 I willingly indorse the just tribute recently paid to this part of Mr. Darwin s work
by Prof. Clifford : " To my mind the simplest and clearest and most profound philosophy
that was ever written upon this subject is to be found in chapters ii. and iii. of Mr. Dar
win s Descent of Man. " Fortnightly Review, p. 794.

CONSCIENCE IN ANIMALS. 81

analytically, to the satisfaction of all competent and impartial thinkers,
that the moral sense is rooted in " the greatest amount of happiness
principle " as its sustaining source. In other words, John Stuart Mill,
by examining conscience as he found it to exist in man, showed that
it depends upon the very principle upon which it ought to depend,
supposing Mr. Darwin s theory elaborated, be it remembered, with
out any reference to Mr. Mill s analysis, and arrived at by a totally
different line of inquiry concerning the causes of its evolution to be
the true one.

Stronger evidence, then, as to the physical causes whose operation
has brought human conscience into being, we could scarcely expect,
in the present condition of physical science, to possess. It is unneces
sary, however, in this place to enter into the details of this evidence,
as almost every educated person must be more or less acquainted
with them. I shall therefore pass on to the next point which con
cerns us namely, supposing the causes of our moral sense to have
had their origin in the social instincts, where and to what extent
should we expect to find indications of an incipient moral sense in
animals? First, then, what do we meaii by conscience? AYe mean
that faculty of our minds which renders possible remorse or satisfac
tion for past conduct, which has been respectively injurious or bene
ficial to others. 1 This, at least, is what I conceive conscience to be in
its last resort. No doubt, as we find it in actual operation, the faculty
in question has reference to ideas of a higher abstraction than that of
the fellow-man whom we have injured or benefited. In most cases
the moral sense has reference to the volitions of a Deity, and in others
to- the human race considered as a whole. But, if the moral sense has
been developed in the way here supposed, its root-principle must be
that which has reference to ideas of no higher abstraction than those
of parent, neighbor, or tribe. Now, even in this its most rudimentary
phase of development, conscience presupposes a comparatively high
order of intelligence as the prime condition of its possibility. For
not only does the faculty as above defined require a good memory as
a condition essential to its existence, but what is of much greater
importance it also requires the power of reflecting upon past con
duct; and this, it is needless to say, appears to be a much rarer
quality in the psychology of animals than is mere memory.

Thus, if Mr. Darwin s theory concerning the origin and develop
ment of the moral sense is true,, we should not expect to find any in
dications of this faculty in any animals that are too low in the psy
chological scale to be capable of reflecting upon their past conduct,
Whether this limitation does not exclude all animals whatever is a
question with which I am not here concerned. I merely assert that,
if the theory in question is the true one, and if no animals are capable

1 For reasons which maj- easily be gathered from the next succeeding sentences, I
omit conscientious ideas of whfit is due to self.

VOL. IX. 6

82 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of reflecting upon their past conduct, then no animals can possess a
moral sense, properly so called. And from this, of course, it follows
that, if any animals can be shown to possess a moral sense, they
are thereby also shown to be capable of reflecting "upon their past
conduct.

Again, if Mr. Darwin s theory concerning the origin and develop
ment of the moral sense is true, it is self-evident that we should not
expect to find any indications of this faculty in animals that are either
unsocial or unsympathetic. Supposing the theory true, therefore, our
search for animals in which we may expect to find any indications of
a moral sense is thus seen to be very restricted in its range : we can
only expect to find such indications in animals that are highly intel
ligent, social, and sympathetic. Since, by the hypothesis, conscience
requires a comparatively rare collocation of conditions for its develop
ment, we must expect to find it a comparatively rare product.

Lastly, as it is quite certain that no animal is capable of reflecting
upon past conduct in any high degree, and as we have just seen that
the moral sense depends upon the faculty of so reflecting, it follows
that we cannot expect to find any animal in which the moral sense
attains any high degree of development.

We are now in a position to draw some important distinctions.
There are several instincts and feelings which, when expressed in out
ward action, more or less simulate conscience (so to speak), but which
it would be erroneous to call by that name. For instance, the mater
nal instinct, although it leads in many cases to severe and sustained
self-denial for the benefit of the offspring, is nevertheless clearly dis
tinct from conscience. The mother in tending her young does so in
obedience to an inherited instinct, and not from any fear of subsequent
self-reproach if she leaves her family to perish. She follows the ma
ternal instinct, so long as it continues in operation, just as she would
follow any other instinct ; and it is, as it were, a mere accident of the
case that in this particular instance the course of action which the
instinct prompts is a course of action which is conducive to the wel
fare of others. An illustration will render this distinction more clear.
In his chapter on the "Moral Sense," Mr. Darwin alludes to the con
flict of instincts which sometimes occurs in swallows when the migra
tory season overtakes a late brood of young birds ; at such times
" swallows, house-martins, and swifts, frequently desert their tender
young, leaving them to perish miserably in their nests." And further
on he remarks: " When arrived at the end of their long journey, and
the migratory instinct has ceased to act, what an agony of remorse
the bird would feel if, from being endowed with great mental activity,
she could not prevent the image constantly passing through her mind
of her young ones perishing in the bleak north from cold and hunger ! "
In other words, if we could suppose the mother-bird under such cir
cumstances to be capable of reflecting upon her past conduct, and, as

CONSCIENCE IN ANIMALS. 83

a consequence, suffering an " agony of remorse," then the bird might
properly be said to be conscience-stricken. And if we could suppose
the bird, while still brooding over her young ones, to foresee the agony
of remorse she would subsequently feel if she now yields to the stronger
instinct by deserting her young, then the bird might properly be said
to be acting conscientiously.

Again, mere fear of punishment must not be confused with con
science it being of the essence of conscientious action that it should
be prompted by feelings wholly distinct from fear of retaliation by
the object of injury, whether by way of punishment or revenge. Con
science must be capable of effecting its own punishment if violated ;
otherwise the principle of action, whatever it may be, must be called
by some other name. 1

It is evident that conscience, as we find it in ourselves, is distinct
from love of approbation and fear of disapprobation. Nevertheless,
if our hypothesis concerning the development of the moral sense is the
true one, we should expect that during the early phases of that devel
opment love of approbation and fear of disapprobation should have
played a large part in the formation of conscience. For although, by
the hypothesis, it is sympathy and not self-love that constitutes the
seat of the moral sense, still the particular manifestations of self-love
with which we are now concerned viz., desire of approbation and dis
like of the reverse would clearly be impossible but for the presence
of sympathy. "Mr. Bain has clearly shown that the love of praise,
and the strong feeling of glory, and the still stronger horror of scorn
and infamy, are due to the workings of sympathy. I think, there
fore, that in testing by observations upon the lower animals the
truth of Mr. Darwin s theory concerning the genesis of conscience, it
would be no valid objection to any satisfactory instances of conscien
tious action in an animal to say that such action is partly due to a de
sire of praise or a fear of blame. This would be no valid objection,
because, in the first place, it would in most cases be impossible to say
how far the implication is true how far the animal may have acted
from pure sympathy or regard for the feelings of others, and how far
from an admixture of sympathy with self-love; and in the next place,
even if the implication be conceded wholly true, it would not tend t
disprove the theory in question. If an animal s sympathies are s
powerful that, even after being reflected through self-love, they s
retain force enough to prompt a course of action which is in direct op
position to the more immediate dictates of self-love, then the sympa
thies of such an animal are hereby proved to be sufficiently e

i Of course I recognize fear of punishment as an important factor in the original con-
Dilution of the moral sentiment; but, for reasons stated at the end of tins article, w,
must, when treating of animal psychology, eliminate this factor when conscience has
sufficiently developed to be " a law to itself."
. i Descent of Man," p. 109 (1874). Mental and Moral Science," p. 254 (18

84 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

constitute the beginnings of a conscience, supposing the theory which
we are testing to be thelrue one.

Similarly, there is an obvious distinction in ourselves between in
jured conscience and injured pride. But, if conscience has been devel
oped in the way here supposed, it follows that in the rudimentary
stages of such development the distinction in question cannot be so
well denned. Pride presupposes consideration for the opinion of
others, and this in turn as we have just seen presupposes sympathy,
which is the foundation-stone of conscience. JSI ow, it is certain that
long before we reach, in the ascending scale of animal psychology, in
tellectual faculties sufficiently exalted to admit even of our suspecting
the presence of an incipient moral sense, we can perceive abundant
indications of the presence of pride. And, forasmuch as animals that
are high in the psychological scale frequently exhibit a very profound
appreciation of their own dignity, we may pretty safely conclude that
in no case can we expect to find indications of a moral sense in an ani
mal without a greater or less admixture of pride.

I will now sum up this rather tedious preamble : From Mr. Dar
win s theory concerning the development of conscience, it appears
to follow that the presence of this faculty in animals must be restrict
ed if it occurs at all to those which are intelligent enough to be ca
pable in some degree of reflecting upon past conduct, and which like
wise possess social and sympathetic instincts. From the first of these
conditions it follows, supposing Mr. Darwin s theory true, that in the
case of no animal should we expect to find the moral sense developed
in any other than a low degree.

There is no reason to suppose any mere instinct (such as the ma
ternal) due to conscience; for an instinct acquired by inheritance is
obeyed blindly, in order to avoid the uncomfortable sensation which
ensues in a direct manner if it is not so obeyed ; whereas conscience
enforces obedience only through a process of reflection ; 1 the uncom
fortable sensation which non-obedience entails in this case being only
brought about in an indirect manner through the agency of repre
sentative thought.

Although conscience in man is independent of, or distinct from,
love of approbation, fear of reproach, and sense of pride, there is no
reason why we should suppose conscience in its rudimentary forms to
be independent of these passions. On the contrary, I think we should
expect a rudimentary form of conscience to be more or less amalga
mated with such passions ; for, long before the faculty in question has
attained the highly-differentiated state in which we find it to be pres
ent in ourselves, it must (by the hypothesis) have passed through in-

1 i. e., originally : when once the habit of yielding obedience to conscience has been
acquired, it becomes itself of the nature of an instinct neglect to practise this habit giv
ing rise immediately, or without any process of reflection, to an uncomfortable state of
the mind.

CONSCIENCE IN ANIMALS. 85

numerable states of lesser differentiation in which its existence was
presumably more and more bound up with that of those more primary
social instincts from which it first derived its origin. To us con
science means a massive consolidation of innumerable experiences, in
herited and acquired, of remorse following one class of actions and
gratification their opposites ; and this massive body of experience has
reference to ideas of an abstraction so high as to extend far beyond
the individual, or even the community, which our actions primarily
affect. No wonder, therefore, that, when any course of action is being
contemplated, conscience asserts her voice within us as a voice of
supreme authority, commanding us to look beyond all immediate is
sues, inclinations, and even sympathies, to those great principles of
action which the united experience of mankind has proved to be best
for the individual to follow in all his attempts to promote the hap
piness or to alleviate the misery of his race. But with animals, of
course, the case is different. They start with a very small allowance
of hereditary experience in the respects we are considering ; they have
very few opportunities of adding to those experiences themselves ; they
probably have no powers of forming abstract ideas; and so their
moral sense, rudimentary in its nature, can never be exercised with
reference to anything other than concrete objects relation, compan
ion, or herd.

We may now proceed to answer the question already propounded,
namely : Supposing Mr. Darwin s theory concerning the origin of the
moral sense to be true, where among animals should we expect to find
indications of such a sense ? I think reflection will show that the three
essential conditions to the presence of a moral sense are only complied
with among animals in the case of three groups namely, dogs, ele
phants, and monkeys. I need not say anything about the intelligence
or the sociability of these animals, for it is proverbial that there are
no animals so intelligent or more social. It is necessary, however, to
say a 1 few words about sympathy.

In the case of dogs sympathy exists in an extraordinary degree. I
have- myself seen the life of a terrier saved by another dog which
staid in the same house with him, and with which he had always
lived in a state of bitter enmity. Yet, when the terrier was one day
attacked by a large dog, which shook him by the back, and would
certainly have killed him, his habitual enemy rushed to the rescue, and,
after saving the terrier, had great difficulty in getting away himself.

With regard to elephants, I may quote the well-known instance
from the " Descent of Man : " " Dr. Hooker informs me that an ele
phant, which he was riding in India, became so deeply bogged that
he remained stuck fast until next day, when he was extracted by .
means of ropes. Under such circumstances elephants seize with their
trunks any object, dead or alive, to place under their knees, to pre
vent their sinking deeper in the mud ; and the driver was dreadfully

86 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

afraid lest the animal should have seized Dr. Hooker and crushed him
to death. But the driver himself, as Dr. Hooker was assured, ran no
risk. This forbearance, under an emergency so dreadful for a heavy
animal, is a wonderful proof of noble fidelity." 1

Many cases of sympathy in monkeys might be given, but I shall
confine myself to stating one which I myself witnessed at the Zoologi
cal Gardens. 2 A year or two ago, there was an Arabian baboon and
an Anubis baboon confined in one cage, adjoining that which con
tained a dog-headed baboon. The Anubis baboon passed its hand
through the wires of the partition, in order to purloin a nut which the
large dog-headed baboon had left within reach expressly, I believe,
that it might act as a bait. The Anubis baboon very well knew the
danger he ran, for he waited until his bulky neighbor had turned his
back upon the nut with the appearance of having forgotten all about
it. The dog-headed baboon, however, was all the time slyly looking
round with the corner of his eye, and no sooner was the arm of his
victim well within his cage than he sprang with astonishing rapidity
and caught the retreating hand in his mouth. The cries of the Anu
bis baboon quickly brought the keeper to the rescue, when, by dint
of a good deal of physical persuasion, the dog-headed baboon was in
duced to let go his hold. The Anubis baboon then retired to the
middle of his cage, moaning piteously, and holding the injured hand
against his chest while he rubbed it with the other one. The Arabian
baboon now approached him from the top part of the cage, and, while
making a soothing sound, very expressive of sympathy, folded the
sufferer in its arms exactly as a mother would her child under simi
lar circumstances. It must be stated, also, that this expression of
sympathy had a decidedly quieting effect upon the sufferer, his moans
becoming less piteous so soon as he was enfolded in the arms of his
comforter ; and the manner in which he laid his cheek upon the bosom
of his friend was as expressive as anything could be of sympathy ap
preciated. This really affecting spectacle lasted a considerable time,
and while watching it I felt that, even had it stood alone, it would in
itself have been sufficient to prove the essential identity of some of
the noblest among human emotions with those of the lower animals.

If there is any validity in the foregoing antecedent reflections, all
who have the opportunity should make a point of observing whether
any indications of conscience are perceptible in monkeys, elephants,
or intelligent dogs. My own opportunities of observation have been
restricted to the last of these animals alone, so I shall conclude this
article by giving some instances which appear to me very satisfacto
rily to prove that intelligent and sympathetic dogs possess the rudi
ments of a moral sense.

1 See, also, Hooker s "Himalayan Journal," vol. ii., p. 333 (1854).
2 1 hope it is unnecessary to say that, in detailing this and all the subsequent inci
dents, I carefully avoid exaggeration or embellishment of any kind.

CONSCIENCE IN ANIMALS. 87

I have a setter just now which has been made a pet of since a
puppy. As he has a very fine nose, and is at liberty to go wherever
he pleases, he often finds bits of food which he very well knows he
has no right to take. If the food he finds happens to be of a dainty
description, his conscientious scruples are overcome by the tempta
tions of appetite; but, if the food should be of a less palatable kind, he
generally carries it to me in order to obtain my permission to eat it.
Now, as no one ever beats or even scofds this dog for stealing, his
only object in thus asking permission to eat what he finds must be
that of quieting his conscience. It should be added that when he
brings stolen property to me it does not always follow that he is al
lowed to keep it.

This same animal, when I am out shooting with him, sometimes
of course flushes birds. When he does so he immediately comes to
me in a straight line, carrying his head and tail very low, as if to ask
for pardon. Although I speak reproachfully to him on such occasions,
I scarcely ever chastise him; so it cannot be fear that prompts this
demeanor.

One other curious fact may here be mentioned about this dog.
Although naturally a very vivacious animal, and, when out for a walk
with myself or any other young person, perpetually ranging about in
search of game, yet if taken out for a walk by an elderly person he
keeps close to heel all the time pacing along with a slow step and se
date manner, as different as possible from that which is natural to him.
This curious behavior is quite spontaneous on- his part, and appej
to rise from his sense of the respect that is due to age.

The writer of the article on " Animal Depravity" makes the
lowino- quotation from an article of mine in Nature (vol. xii., page
66) " The terrier used to be very fond of catching flies upoi
window-panes, and if ridiculed when unsuccessful was evidently n
annoyed. On one occasion, in order to see what he would do, I pui
posely laughed immoderately every time he failed, It so happei
that he did so several times in succession-partly, I believe, m co.
quence of my laughing-and eventually he became so distress
he positively pretended to catch the fly, going through all the ap
pro Jriate aciions with his lips and tongue, and afterward rubbmg
ground with his neck as if to kill the victim ; he then looked up a
with a triumphant air of success. So wel **^*"
simulated that I should have been quite deceived, had I not t
the fly was still upon the window. Accordingly, I drew his at ent on
to hi* fact, as well as to the absence of anything upon the floe, ami
he saw that his hypocrisy had been detected ho

88 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and of their total want of conscience." I think this observation is
warranted by the facts, for although I have heard it objected that the
feeling displayed by the terrier in this case was that of wounded pride
rather than of wounded conscience, still, from what has been previ-.
ously said concerning this distinction in the case of animals, it will be
seen that in this instance it is not easy to draw the line between these
two sentiments.

The following instances, however, all of which occurred with the
terrier just mentioned, are free from this difficulty :

For a long time this terrier was the only canine pet I had. One
day, however, I brought home a large dog, and chained him up out
side. The jealousy of the terrier toward the new-comer was extreme.
Indeed, I never before knew that jealousy in an animal could arrive at
such a pitch ; but, as it would occupy too much space to enter into
details, it will be enough to say that I really think nothing that could
have befallen this terrier would have pleased him so much as would
any happy accident by which he might get well rid of his rival. Well,
a few nights after the new dog had arrived, the terrier was, as usual,
sleeping in my bedroom. About one o clock in the morning he began
to bark and scream very loudly, and, upon my waking up and telling
him to be quiet, he ran between the bed and the window in a most
excited manner, jumping on and off the toilet-table after each jour
ney, as much as to say : " Get up quickly ; you have no idea of what
shocking things are going on outside ! " Accordingly, I got up, and
was surprised to see the large dog careering down the road ; he had
broken loose, and, being wild with fear at finding himself alone in a
strange place, was running he knew not whither. Of course I went
out as soon as possible, and after about half an hour s work succeeded
in capturing the runaway. I then brought him into the house and
chained him up in the hall ; after which I fed and caressed him with
the view of restoring his peace of mind. During all this time the
terrier had remained in my bedroom, and, although he heard the
feeding and caressing process going on down-stairs, this was the only
time I ever knew him fail to attack the large dog when it was taken
into the house. Upon my reentering the bedroom, and before I said
anything, the terrier met me with certain indescribable grinnings and
prancings, which he always used to perform when conscious of hav
ing been a particularly good dog. Now, I consider the whole of this
episode a very remarkable instance in an animal of action prompted
by a sense of duty. No other motive than the voice of conscience can
here be assigned for what the terrier did ; even his strong jealousy oi
the large dog gave way before the yet stronger dread he had of ihe
remorse he knew he should have to suffer, if next day he saw me dis
tressed at a loss which it had been in his power to prevent. What
makes the case more striking is, that this was the only occasion dur
ing the many years he slept in my bedroom that the terrier disturbed

CONSCIENCE IN ANIMALS.

89

me in the night-time. Indeed, the scrupulous care with which he
avoided making the least noise while I was asleep, or pretending to be
asleep, was quite touching, even the sight of a cat outside, which at
any other time rendered him frantic, only causing him to tremble
violently with suppressed emotion when he had reason to suppose that
I was not awake. If I overslept myself, however, he used to jump
upon the bed and push my shoulder gently with his paw.

The following instance is likewise very instructive : I must premise
that the terrier in question far surpassed any animal or human being
I ever knew in the keen sensitiveness of his feelings, and that he was
never beaten in his life. 1 Well, one day he was shut up in a room by
himself, while everybody, in the house where he was, went out. See
ing his friends from the window as they departed, the terrier appears
to have been overcome by a paroxysm of rage ; for when I returned
I found that he had torn all the bottoms of the window-curtains to
shreds. When I first opened the door he jumped about as dogs in
general do under similar circumstances, having apparently forgotten,
in his joy at seeing me, the damage he had done. But when, without
speaking, I picked up one of the torn shreds of the curtains, the terrier
gave a howl, and, rushing out of the room, ran up-stairs screaming
as loudly as he w r as able. The only interpretation I can assign to this
conduct is, that, his former fit of passion having subsided, the dog was
sorry at having done what he knew would annoy me ; and, not being
able to endure in my presence the remorse of his smitten conscience,
he ran to the farthest corner of the house crying peccavi in the lan
guage of his nature.

I could give several other cases of conscientious action on the part
of this terrier, but, as the present article is already too long, I shall
confine myself to giving but one other case. This, however, is the

1 A reproachful word or look from me, when it seemed to him that occasion required
it, was enough to make this dog miserable for a whole day. I do not know what would
have happened had I ventured to strike him ; but once when I was away from home a
friend used to take him out every day for a walk in the park. He always enjoyed
his walks very much, and was now wholly dependent upon this gentleman for obtaining
them. (He was once stolen in London through the complicity of my servants, and never
after that would he go out by himself, or with any one he knew to be a servant.) Never
theless, one day while he was amusing himself with another dog in the park, my friend,
in order to persuade him to follow, struck him with a glove. The terrier looked up at
his face with an astonished and indignant gaze, deliberately turned round, and trotted
home. Next day he went out with my friend as before, but after he had gone a short
distance he looked up at his face significantly, and again trotted home with a dignified
air. After this my friend could never induce the terrier to go out with him again,
remarkable, also, that this animal s sensitiveness was not only of a selfish kind, but ex
tended itself in sympathy for others. Whenever he saw a man striking a dog, whether
in the house or outside, near at hand or at a distance, he used to rush to the protec
of his fellow, snarling and snapping in a most threatening way. Again, when driving
with me in a dog-cart, he always used to seize the sleeve of my coat every time I
the horse with the whip.

9 o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

most unequivocal instance I have ever known of conscience being
manifested by an animal.

I had had this dog for several years, and had never even in his
puppyhood known him to steal. On the contrary, he used to make
an excellent guard to protect property from other animals, servants,
etc., even though these were his best friends. 1 Nevertheless, on one
occasion he was very hungry, and, in the room where I was reading
and he was sitting, there was, within easy reach, a savory mutton-
chop. I was greatly surprised to see him stealthily remove this chop
and take it under a sofa. However, I pretended not to observe what
had occurred, and waited to see what would happen next. For fully
a quarter of an hour this terrier remained under the sofa without
making a sound, but doubtless enduring an agony of contending feel
ings. Eventually, however, conscience came off victorious, for, emerg
ing from his place of concealment and carrying in his mouth the
stolen chop, he came across the room and laid the tempting morsel at
my feet. The moment he dropped the stolen property he bolted again
under the sofa, and from this retreat no coaxing could charm him for
several hours afterward. Moreover, when during that time he was
spoken to or patted, he always turned away his head in a ludicrously
conscience-stricken manner. Altogether I do not think it would be
possible to imagine a more satisfactory exhibition of conscience by
an animal than this ; for it must be remembered, as already stated,
that the particular animal in question was never beaten in its life. 2 -
Advance-sheets of the Quarterly Journal of Science.

1 I have seen this dog escort a donkey Which had baskets on its back filled with ap
ples. Although the dog did not know that he was being observed by anybody, he did
his duty with the utmost faithfulness ; for, every time the donkey turned back its head to
take an apple out of the baskets, the dog snapped at its nose ; and such was his watch
fulness that, although his companion was keenly desirous of tasting some of the fruit,
he never allowed him to get a single apple during the half-hour they were left together.
I have also seen this terrier protecting meat from other terriers (his sons), which lived in
the same house with him, and with which he was on the very best of terms. More curious
still, I have seen him seize my wristbands while they were being worn by a friend to
whom I temporarily lent them.

2 This latter point is most important, because, although the moral sentiment in its
incipient stages undoubtedly depends in a large measure upon fear of punishment, still,
in its more developed state, this sentiment is as undoubtedly independent of such fear
(Of. Bain, " Mental and Moral Science," pp. 456-459, 1875) ; and forasmuch as in our
analysis of animal psychology we can be guided only by the study of outward actions,
and forasmuch as the course of action prompted by direct fear of punishment will nearly
always be identical with that prompted by true conscience, it is of the first importance
to obtain cases such as the above, in which mere dread of punishment cannot even be
suspected to have been the motive principle of action.

AIR-GERMS AND SPONTANEOUS GENERATION. 91
AIE-GEKMS AND SPONTANEOUS GENEKATION. 1

BY P. SCHtTZENBEEGEE.

E question of the origin of ferments is intimately connected with
- that of spontaneous generation. In fact, from the time of Van
Helmont and others, who, even in the seventeenth century, gave direc
tions for the production of mice, frogs, eels, etc., the partisans of this
mode of generation have, by the progress of the tendency to examine
into the causes of things, been driven from the larger animals or plants
visible to the naked eye, to the smallest living productions, which we
can observe only by the aid of the microscope. But ferments are
found among these inferior microscopic organisms; Redi, a member
of the Academy of Cimento, showed that the worms in putrefied flesh,
which were at first thought to be of spontaneous origin, are only the
larvae from the eggs of flies, and that all that was necessary, to pre
vent entirely the birth of these larva?, was to surround the decompos
ing meat with fine gauze; he was the first to ascertain that parasitic
animals are sexual and able to lay eggs.

The invention of the microscope, and the numerous observations by
which it was followed, toward the end of the seventeenth, and the
commencement of the eighteenth century, gave fresh impulse to the
doctrine of spontaneous generation, which had lost all credit in ques
tions concerning the origin of living beings of a higher order.

The question now was how to explain the origin of the various
living productions, revealed by the microscope in infusions of vege
table and animal substances, among which no apparent symptom of
sexual generation could then be found.

The subject was studied for the first time in a scientific manner by
Needham, who published, in 1745, in London, a work on this subject.
This observer did for infusoria what had already been done for the
higher organisms. He protected, or rather endeavored to protect,
vegetable or animal infusions from the action of germs, seeds, or any
other agents of multiplication which could come from without. At
the same time he destroyed by a physical agent, heat, the germs which
might be supposed to exist beforehand in the liquid. Under these
conditions, either living beings will be produced in the midst of the
infusion, or none will be found there ; in the former case, it must be
admitted that these organisms are developed in the medium which is
suitable to them, without the intervention of any germ ; in the second,
that the doctrine of spontaneous generation is false. In reality, the
question can only be resolved in this manner, and all experimenters

i Abridged from " Schutzenbergcr on Fermentations," No. XX. of the "International
Scientific Series."

92 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

who have entered upon it from Needham s time to the present day
ought to have made use of it.

The serious and grave difficulty, on which, during this period, all
discussions raised between heterogenists and panspermists have turned,
is so to arrange the experiments as to remove every suspicion of the
intervention of germs brought from without, or preexisting, in the
liquid.

If the result is negative, if when all precautions that seem to be
necessary have been taken, and all causes of error have been removed,
there is no formation of infusoria, it will be difficult to raise any seri
ous objection to the inevitable conclusion, provided that the methods
employed for the purpose of eliminating the preexisting germs are not
of such a nature as to modify the medium, and to render it unfit for
the development and the nutrition of living organisms. If, on the
contrary, we still meet with the birth of living beings, the suspicion
will always revive that the experiment has been badly performed, and
that a contrary result would have been obtained by conducting it more
carefully. The heterogenists, therefore, find themselves in a more dis
advantageous situation than their opponents, and, notwithstanding
the success which they may obtain, they will never convince them.

We think, therefore, that it is useless to give here a detailed
account of their minute researches ; they must be consulted in the
original memoirs. A single experiment which proves, by a negative
result, that organic infusions, protected from germs from without, do
not give birth to infusoria, is worth more, scientifically speaking, than
ten experiments tending to establish the contrary opinion.

If, therefore, we pass over the details of the fundamental experi
ments of the heterogenists, and speak of those the results of which are
conformable to the ideas of the panspermists, it will not be in a spirit
of partiality. We are convinced that the latter are the only ones free
from all objections, the relative skill of the operators being disregard
ed, and considered as nothing in the estimate formed. We may, how
ever, say that M. Pasteur s researches may serve as a model for all
those who may wish to conduct investigations of this kind, whatever
may be the preconceived opinion by which they are guided. By their
precision, and the care taken to remove every source of error, they
leave nothing to be desired.

As the results obtained by M. Pasteur lead him to deny spontane
ous generation, his opponents must above all prove that he is mis
taken, by adopting the same rigorous experimental conditions. JSTeed-
ham s experiments, which led him to admit and sustain the doctrine
of spontaneous generation, consisted essentially in placing organic
substances which were capable of decomposition, in vessels hermeti
cally sealed, which were subsequently submitted to a high temperature,
in order to destroy the preexisting germs. The work of the English
writer attracted great notice on account of the support of Buffon,

AIR-GERMS AND SPONTANEOUS GENERATION. 93

whose ideas lie upheld. Soon after began the great controversy be
tween Needham and Spallanzani, who refuted, by experiment, the
conclusions arrived at by Needham.

The controversy turned principally on this point: Spallanzani was
not satisfied with heating the hermetically-sealed vessels containing
the infusions, for several minutes, merely the time which is required to
cook a herfs-egg, and to destroy the germs, as Needham expresses it,
but he kept them for the space of an hour in boiling water. He then
observed no production of infusoria. But, objects the English ob
server, from the manner in which he treated and put to the torture
his nineteen vegetable infusions, it is evident that he not only much
weakened, or perhaps totally destroyed, the vegetative force of the
substances infused, but also entirely corrupted, by the exhalations
and the odor of the fire, the small portion of air which remained in^
the empty part of his vessels. It is not, therefore, surprising that his
infusions, thus treated, gave no signs of life. Such must necessarily
have been the case. This idea, that the action of the temperature of
boiling water destroys the vegetative force of infusions, is maintained
even at the present day, and has served as an argument to the hete-
rogenists ; as they were unable to attack the material correctness of
Pasteur s experiments, they did not accept the conclusions which he
sought to derive from them.

We find also in the passage just cited, the necessity for the experi
ments made by Schwann and Helmholtz on calcined air, and for those
of Schroder and F. Dusch, on strained air. The objection of a possi
ble change in the air contained in the vial, under the influence of pro
longed boiling, in presence of organic substances, was a serious one at
the time that it was brought forward; it becomes more so, when we
know that the air confined over preserved meats, prepared by Ap-
pert s process, contains no oxygen. It was, therefore, absolutely ne
cessary to place the infusions in contact with air in a normal condi
tion, after that boiling had deprived them of their preexisting germs,
avoiding at the same time any new germs brought by the air.

For this purpose, Dr. Schwann heated flasks containing the infu
sions, until the destruction of the germs was insured; but his flask
was not closed : it communicated freely with the surrounding air by
mean of a glass tube bent in the form of a U, and heated, in one
part of its length, by means of a bath of fusible alloy. Under these
conditions, the air may be renewed in the flasks, but the fresh atmos
pheric air admitted has undergone, like the infusion, the action of
heat, which destroys the germs. Schwann s experiment was very
decisive, as to broth made from meat ; and the negative result (no
development of infusoria) was quite satisfactory. But it was not the
same with analogous trials on alcoholic fermentation, which gave con
tradictory results. Ure and Helmholtz repeated and multiplied these
experiments with the same success.

94 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

To obviate the objection* of a possible change by heat, in a mys
terious and undefined principle, different from germs, but whose pres
ence in the air was necessary to the production of infusoria, Schultze
caused the renewed air to pass through energetic chemical reagents,
such as concentrated sulphuric acid. He half filled a glass vessel
with distilled water containing various animal and vegetable sub
stances ; then stopped the vessel with a cork through which passed
two bent tubes, and exposed the apparatus thus arranged to the tem
perature of boiling water. Then, while the vapor was still escaping
through the tubes, he adapted to each of them a Liebig s bulb appa
ratus, one containing concentrated sulphuric acid, and the other con
centrated caustic potash. The high temperature must necessarily
have destroyed every living thing, all the germs that might happen
to be in the inside of the vessel, or of its appendages, and the commu
nication from without was intercepted by the sulphuric acid on one
side and the potassa on the other. Nevertheless, it was easy to
renew, by aspiration at the end of the apparatus which contained the
potassa, the air thus inclosed, and the fresh quantities of this fluid
which were introduced could not carry with them any living germ,
for they were forced to pass through a bath of concentrated sulphuric
acid. M. Schultze placed the apparatus thus arranged at a well-
lighted window, side by side with an open vessel, which contained an
infusion of the same organic substances ; then he was careful to renew
the air in his apparatus several times a day for more than two months,
and to examine with the microscope what took place in the infusion.
The open vessel was soon found filled with vibrios and monads, to
which were soon added polygastric infusoria of a larger size, and even
rotifers ; but by the most attentive observation he could not discover
the least trace of infusoria, conferva, or mildews, in the infusion con
tained in the apparatus.

The latest researches of Schroder and Yon Dusch (1854-1859) tend
ed to raise another objection, the possible change in a special prin
ciple in the air, by a reagent as energetic as sulphuric acid. Guided
by the experiments of Loewel, who ascertained that common air, when
it had been previously filtered through cotton, was unfit to cause the
crystallization of supersaturated solutions of sodium sulphate, they
placed one of the tubes of Schultze S apparatus in communication with
a tube 1.18 inch in diameter, and from 19.68 to 23.62 inches in length,
filled with cotton-wool. The other tube was connected with an aspi
rator.

When the liquid, the interior of the flask, and the tubes, had been
deprived of air by boiling, the apparatus was removed to its place,
and the aspiration continued night and day. The two observers thus
proved that meat, to which water hod been adde^l, the wort of beer,
urine, starch, paste, and the various materials of milk taken separate
ly, remained intact in the filtered air. On the contrary, milk, meat

AIR-GERMS AND SPONTANEOUS GENERATION. 95

without water, and the yolk of egg, grew putrid as rapidly as in com
mon air.

The result of these experiments is, that there are spontaneous de
compositions of organic substances which require nothing but the
presence of oxygen gas to cause them to commence; while others
need, besides oxygen, the presence in the atmospheric air of those
unknown things, which are destroyed by heat or sulphuric acid, or
are retained by the cotton.

The two observers do not then decide on the nature of these things,
and do not assert categorically that they are germs, and, in reality,
nothing allows us to draw these conclusions.

M. Pasteur s experiments have advanced the question another
step, by proving that they are really germs of ferments and infusoria,
which are destroyed by heat, or arrested by the sulphuric acid or cot
ton in the experiments alluded to above.

M. Pasteur made a hole in a window-shutter, several metres above
the ground, and through this he passed a glass tube .196 inch in
diameter, and containing a plug of soluble cotton .39 inch in length,
kept in its place by a spiral platinum wire. One of the ends of this
tube passed into the street ; the other communicated with a continuous
aspirator. When the air had passed for a sufficient time, the plug of
cotton, more or less soiled by the dust which it had intercepted, was
placed in a small tube with the mixture of alcohol and ether, which
dissolves gun-cotton. It was left for the space of a day. All the
dust was deposited at the bottom of the tube, where it is easy to
wash it by decantation, without any loss, if care is taken to separate
each washing by an interval of repose of from twelve to twenty hours.
The deposit, and the liquid which covers it, are put in a watch-glass
together ; after the evaporation of the alcohol, the remainder is placed
in water, and examined with the microscope. M. Pasteur also made
use of ordinary sulphuric acid in order to moisten the dust. This
agent had the effect of separating the grains of starch and calcium
carbonate, which are always found in greater or less quantities in
deposits collected on-the plug of cotton.

FIGS. 1 AND 2.-ORGANTC CORPUSCLES OP DUST, MIXED WITH AMORPHOUS PARTICLES.

Figs. 1 and 2 represent organic corpuscles, associated with amor
phous particles, as seen through the microscope, under a power of 350
diameters; the liquid containing them was common sulphuric acid.

96 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Fig. 1 applies to dust collected from the 25th to the 26th of June,
1860; Fig. 2 to dust from the very intense fog of January, 1861.

It was not enough to discover with the microscope organic parti
cles mixed with amorphous substances, but it was necessary to prove
that these particles really consisted of fertile germs, capable of pro
ducing the infusoria which are developed in such abundance iA organic
liquids exposed to the air. For this purpose, M. Pasteur arranged the
experiment in the following manner :

Into a flask capable of containing from 15 to 18 cubic inches, he
introduced 6 to 9 cubic inches of albuminous saccharine water, pre
pared in the following proportions :

Water, 100 ;

Sugar, 10;

Albuminoid and mineral matter from beer-yeast, .2 to .7.

The neck of the drawn-out neck-flask communicated with a plati
num tube, as shown in Fig. 3. In this first stage of the experiment
the T-shaped tube with three stopcocks is removed, and its place sup
plied by a simple India-rubber connecting-piece. The platinum tube
is raised to a red heat by means of a small gas-furnace. The liquid
is boiled for two or three minutes, and is then allowed to grow com
pletely cold. It is filled with common air, at the ordinary pressure
of the atmosphere, but which has been wholly exposed to a red heat ;
then the neck of the flask is hermetically sealed.

This, being thus prepared and detached, is placed in a stove at a
constant temperature of about 86 Fahr. ; it may be kept there for
any length of time without the least change in the liquid which it con
tains. It preserves its limpidity, its smell, and its weak acid reaction ;
even a very slight absorption of oxygen is mainly to be observed.
M. Pasteur affirms that he never had a single experiment, which was
arranged as described above, which yielded a doubtful result; while
water of yeast mixed with sugar, and boiled for two or three minutes,
and then exposed to the air, was already in evident process of decom
position in a day or two, and was found to be filled with bacteria and
vibrios, or covered with mucors. These experiments are directly
opposed to those of Messrs. Pousset, Mantegazzo, Joly, and Mussel.

It is therefore clearly proved that sweetened yeast-water, a liquid
very liable to be decomposed by the contact of common air, may be
preserved for years unaltered when it has been exposed to the action
of calcined air, after having been allowed to boil for a few minutes
(two or three). 1

This being determined, M. Pasteur adapted, by means of an India-
rubber tube, the closed point of his flask filled with sweetened yeast-

1 M. Pasteur has pointed out a cause of want of success, which has led many experi
menters into error ; by showing that the mercury of a mercurial trough is a complete
receptacle for living organisms, and consequently that all experiments made with such a
trough must necessarily induce a development of infusoria.

AIR- GERMS AND SPONTANEOUS GENERATION. 97

water, which had been kept for two or three months in a heated
stove, without any development of organisms, to an apparatus ar
ranged like that in Fig. 3.

The pointed end of the flask passed into a strong glass tube .39 to
46 inch in its inner diameter, within which he had placed a piece of
tube of small diameter, open at both ends, free to slip into the larger
tube, and inclosing a portion of one of the small plugs of cotton
loaded with dust. The larger glass tube is bound to a brass tube in
form of a T, furnished with stopcocks, one of which communicates
VOL. ix. 7

98 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

wrth the air-pump, another with the heated platinum tube, and the
third with the flask, by means of the large tube which contains the
smaller one with the cotton. These various parts are joined together
by means of India-rubber.

The experiment is commenced by exhausting the air, after having
closed the stopcock connected with the red-hot metallic tube. This
being afterward opened, allows calcined air to enter the tubes slowly ;
this operation (exhaustion and readmission of calcined air) is repeated
several times. The point of the flask is then broken off within the
India-rubber, and the small tube containing the dust is allowed to slip
into the flask, the neck of which is again sealed with the lamp. As
an additional proof, and to obviate all objections, the same arrange
ments were made with similar flasks, prepared like the preceding, but
with this difference that, instead of cotton charged with atmospheric
dust, there was substituted a small piece of tube containing calcined
asbestos (as an additional precaution, it had been ascertained that
calcined asbestos, loaded with atmospheric dust, by the same means
as the cotton, gave identical results).

The following are the observations obtained constantly by M. Pas
teur :

In all the flasks, into which dust collected from the air was intro-

. .

duced 1. Organic productions began to make their appearance in

the liquid after twenty-four, thirty-six, or forty-eight hours at the
most. This was precisely the time necessary for the same phenomena
to appear in sweetened yeast-water exposed to contact with the at
mosphere.

2. The products observed are of the same kind as those which are
seen to make their appearance in the liquid when left freely exposed
to the air, such as mucors, common mucidines, torulacei, bacteria, and
vibrios of the smallest species, the largest of which, the Fionas lens, is
only .000157 inch in diameter.

When the water of yeast is replaced by urine, the experiment
being conducted exactly in the same manner, we always notice the
absence of any change as long as atmospheric dust has not been intro
duced, while, with the addition of this, numerous organisms are
developed, in every respect similar to those which appear and are
developed in urine kept in the open air. If, on the contrary, the ex
periment be repeated with common milk, we may be sure that it will
in every case curdle, and become putrid. We shall observe the birth
of numerous vibrios of the same species, and bacteria, and the oxygen
of the flask will disappear. M. Pasteur thinks that this result, so dif
ferent from those observed in other liquids, arises only from the fact
that milk contains germs of vibrios which resist the boiling heat of
water. To prove th^s, he boiled milk, not at 212 Fahr., or at the usual
pressure of the atmosphere, but at 230 Fahr., under a greater pressure,
and he found that the flasks thus prepared, and hermetically sealed,

AIR-GERMS AND SPONTANEOUS GENERATION. 99

could be kept for an indefinite time in the stove, without giving rise
to the smallest production of mould or infusoria. The milk preserves
its taste, its smell, and all its properties ; and the atmosphere of the
flask is only slightly modified in its composition. This difference be

tween milk and urine, or sweetened yeast-water, must be attributed
to the alkaline condition of the former medium, whereas the two oth
ers are acid. In fact, if we previously neutralize the acid of the sweet
ened yeast-water, by means of calcium carbonate, we obtain organisms
under the same conditions of the experiment as those under which
they were not before developed.

ioo THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

These facts led M. Pasteur to make researches on the comparative
action of temperature on the fecundity of the spores of the mucidines,
and of the germs which exist suspended in the atmosphere.

The following is, in few words, the method followed by him : He
passed a small portion of asbestos over the small heads of the moulds
which he washed to study ; he then placed this asbestos, covered w 7 ith
spores, in a small glass tube, which he introduced into a U-tube
(Fig. 4) of larger diameter, in which the smaller tube could move
freely ; one of the extremities of the U-tube is joined by India-rubber
to a metal tube in form of a T, with stopcocks. One of these cocks
communicated with the air-pump, another with a red-hot platinum
tube. The other extremity has an India-rubber tube which is con
nected with the flask into which the spores are to be introduced ; this
flask is hermetically sealed, and has been filled with calcined air,
and suitable nutritious liquid previously raised to the boiling-point.
Finally, the U-tube dips into a bath of oil, of common water, or salt
water, according to the temperature which we wish to attain. Be
tween the U-tube and that of platinum, there is a drying-tube with
sulphuric pumice-stone. When all the apparatus which precedes the
platinum tube has* been filled with calcined air, and the spores have
been maintained at the desired temperature for a sufficient time, which
may be varied at pleasure, the point of the flask is broken with a blow
of a hammer, without unfastening the India-rubber connecting-pieces
which attach the flask to the U-tube ; then inclining to a proper angle
this latter tube, when removed from its bath, the asbestos with its
spores is slipped into the flask. The flask is then hermetically sealed,
and is carried to the stove at 68 to 86 Fahr. The experiment with
the dust from the air is also made in the same manner with asbestos.

Without any humidity, the fecundity of the spores of Penecillium
glaucum is preserved up to 248 Fahr., and even a little above 257
Fahr. It is the same with the spores of the other common mucidines.
At 266 Fahr., the power of developing or multiplying is destroyed in
all of them. The limits are the. same for the dust from the air.

In all these careful experiments, the most scrupulous precautions
were taken to prevent the access of the slightest portion of common
air. But, say the partisans of heterogenesis, if the smallest portion
of common air develops organisms in any infusion whatever, it must
necessarily be the case that, if these organisms are not spontaneously
generated, there must be germs of a multitude of various productions
in this portion of common air, however small it may be ; and, if things
were so, the ordinary air would be loaded with organic matter, which
would form a thick mist in it.

M. Pasteur has shown that there is a great deal of exaggeration in
the opinion that even the smallest quantity of air is sufficient to de
velop multitudes of organisms ; that, on the contrary, there is not in
the atmosphere a continuous cause of these so-called spontaneous gen-

AIR-GERMS AND SPONTANEOUS GENERATION. 101

erations; that it is always possible to procure, in any determined
place, a limited quantity of common air, having undergone no kind
of modification, whether physical or chemical, and nevertheless quite
unsuited to set up any decomposing action in a liquid eminently pu-
trescible. The method of experimenting is very simple. Into a flask
of 15 to 18 cubic inches, 9 cubic inches of a liquid that has a tendency
to decomposition are introduced ; the neck of the flask is drawn out
with the lamp, leaving the point open; then the liquid is boiled till
the vapor escaping from the extremity has expelled all the air; at this
moment the point of the flask is closed by the lamp, by means of a
blowpipe, and it is allowed to grow cool. The flask then contains no
air; if we break off the point in any particular place, the air reenters
suddenly, carrying into it the germs held in suspension ; it is again
closed with the lamp, and kept in a stove at a temperature of 68 to
86 Fahr. In the generality of cases, organisms are developed ; these
organisms are even more varied than if the liquid were freely exposed
to the air, which M. Pasteur explains by saying that, in this case, the
germs in small number, in a limited volume of air, are not hindered in
their development by germs in greater number or more precocious in
their fecundity, which are able to occupy the space* and leave no room
for them. But it is especially important to notice in the results ob
tained by this method, what frequently happens many times in each
series of trials, that the liquid continues absolutely intact, however
long it may have remained in the stove, as if it had been filled with
calcined air. This phenomenon is the more striking, and shows itself
in more marked proportions, when the air received into the flasks is
taken from a greater height. Thus, among twenty flasks opened in the
country, eight contained organic productions ; out of twenty opened
on the Jura, only five contained any ; and out of twenty flasks opened
at Montanvert, in a rather high wind, blowing from the deepest gorges
of the " Glacier des Bois," only one was affected by any change.

FIG. 28. M. PASTEUR S FLASK TO DEPRITE THE AIR OF ITS GERMS.

We may also draw other conclusions from this series of observa
tions. Since the putrescible liquid, which had been previously boiled,
and which was contained in the flasks, was filled with organic produc-

102 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tions in a great number of instances, after the introduction of a limited
quantity of air, the genetic power of the infusions had not been de
stroyed by the material conditions of the experiments. Besides, this
objection, which has been raised ever since the earliest controversies
between the heterogenists and the panspermists, has been definitely
answered by an experiment made by M. Pasteur ; he received in a
flask, exhausted and deprived of living germs by the momentary ap
plication of a sufficiently high temperature, some blood at the instant
that it left the organism, and without allowing this liquid, which is so
peculiarly putrescible, to come in contact with air. By permitting air
deprived of germs, either by calcination or simple filtration, to enter
the flask, and then hermetically sealing it, he found that the blood
was preserved for an indefinite period intact, although it had not been
exposed to heat.

M. Pasteur has also shown that air may be deprived of germs by
its passage through a capillary tube bent upon itself. It is, therefore,
sufficient, in most cases, to draw out the neck of the flask so as to form
a very long, narrow tube, which is bent in several directions, as, for
example, in Fig. 5. When the air originally contained in it has
been expelled, and \he preexisting germs killed by prolonged boiling,
the flask is allowed to cool slowly.

In closing our account of M. Pasteur s interesting memoir, in which
heterogenesis was driven to its last intrenchments, we must add that
this learned chemist endeavored to deprive his adversaries of one of
their principal arguments. Experiments on spontaneous generation
have always been conducted with vegetable or animal infusions ; it
was supposed by Needham, Buffon, and Pouchet, that organisms were
only thus produced at the moment of expiring Nature, when the ele
ments of the beings on which they are developed are entering into
new chemical combinations, and are passing fuUy through the phe
nomena of fermentation or putrefaction.

In other words, albuminoid matters preserve in some degree a cer
tain reserve of vitality, which would allow them to become organic
by contact with oxygen, when the conditions of temperature and hu
midity are favorable. Starting with the idea that albuminoid sub
stances are only aliments for the germs of infusoria, mucidines, or fer
ments, M. Pasteur has proved directly that organic substances may
be replaced by those which are purely mineral or artificial, or, at
least, by substances on which this imaginary vegetative force cannot
be supposed to have any influence.

SKETCH OF DR. AUSTIN FLINT, JR. IO3

SKETCH OF DR. AUSTIN FLINT, JR.

rTlHIS gentleman has won his scientific eminence in the field of
-L physiology. Though but forty years of age, he has attained the
highest rank in his chosen department as an experimental inquirer,
teacher, and author having published the most elaborate treatise
upon the subject of physiology in the English language.

The name of Flint is now famous in the medical world through
the celebrity of both father and son ; but there is probably a factor
of inherited genius in this line which goes to their making up, for
they have come from a long race of doctors. This is the genetic line
of the generations of medical Flints, so far as Americans will be inter
ested to know it. They are descended from Thomas Flint, who came
from Matlock, Derbyshire, England, in 1638, and settled in Concord,
Massachusetts. Edward Flint, physician of Shrewsbury, Mass., was
father of the great-grandfather of the subject of this sketch. The
great-grandfather, Austin Flint, after whom the contemporary Flints
are named, was a physician who died at Leicester, Massachusetts,. in
1850, over ninety years of age. He served as a private soldier and
afterward as a surgeon in the Revolutionary War. The grandfather
of Austin, Jr., was Joseph Henshaw Flint, a distinguished surgeon of
Northampton, Massachusetts, and afterward of Springfield, in the
same State. His father is Austin Flint, now an eminent physician in
New York City. He was born at Petersham, Massachusetts, in 1812,
and graduated M. D. at Harvard, in 1833. He is a voluminous author
and a distinguished practitioner.

AUSTIN FLINT, Jr., was born at Northampton, Massachusetts, March
28, 1836, and his parents removed to Buffalo, New York, in the same
year. He was educated at private schools in that city, and, when
fifteen, he spent a year in the Academy of Leicester, Massachusetts.
He prepared for college at Buffalo, and entered Harvard University
as Freshman in 1852. He left the university in 1853, and spent a year
in the study of civil-engineering. He began the study of medicine
in the spring of 1854 at Buffalo, and attended two courses of lectures
at the medical department of the University of Louisville (1854- 55
and 1855- 56). His taste for physiology was early developed, and he
made some experiments on living animals for Prof. Yandell, of the
Louisville school, while he was a student there. His final course of
lectures was taken at Jefferson Medical College, Philadelphia, in 1856-
57, and at the close of the course he graduated. His inaugural thesis
on the "Phenomena of the Capillary Circulation" was honored with
the recommendation to be published, and appeared in the American
Journal of Medical Sciences in July, 1857. It was based upon numer
ous original experiments. He was editor for three years (1857- 60)

104 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of the Buffalo Medical Journal, which was founded by his father in
1846, and ultimately transferred to New York ancl merged in the
American Medical Monthly.

In 1858 Dr. Flint was appointed one of the attending surgeons of
the Buffalo City Hospital. The same year he became Professor of
Physiology in the Medical School of Buffalo. In 1859 he removed
with his father, and was appointed Professor of Physiology in the
New York Medical College, delivering a course of lectures in 1859- 60.
In 1860 he received the appointment of Professor of Physiology in
the New Orleans School of Medicine, delivered a course of instruc
tions in 1860- 61, and resigned the position at the breaking out of
the war. While in New Orleans he experimented on alligators,
and developed some important points with reference to the influ
ence of the pneumogastric nerves upon the heart. He also made
some experiments there upon the recurrent sensibility of the anterior
roots of the spinal nerves. He was the first physiologist in this
country to operate upon the spinal cord and the spinal nerves in liv
ing animals. .

In the spring of 1861 Dr. Flint went to Europe, and studied sev
eral months with Charles Robin and Claude Bernard, with the former
of whom he had close friendly and scientific relations, and maintained
a frequent correspondence. Prof. Robin presented his memoir, "Sur
une nouvelle fonction au foie " (" On a New Function of the Liver"),
to the French Academy of Sciences for the Month yon prize without
the knowledge of the author. In 1863 Dr. Flint made some important
experiments upon the blood, employing a new mode of analysis for its
nitrogenized constituents. He was one of the founders of the Bellevue
Hospital Medical College, in 1861, and has been from the first, as he
still is, Professor of Physiology and Secretary and Treasurer of the
Faculty. He was also for eight years Professor and Lecturer on
Physiology in the Long Island College Hospital of Brooklyn.

In 1862 Dr. Flint made some remarkable observations on the ex
cretory function of the liver, published in the American Journal of
the Medical Sciences, in October, 1863 ; translated into French, and
presented by Robin to the French Academy of Sciences for the " Con-
cours Monthyon" and which received honorable mention and a recom
pense to the author of 1,500 francs in 1869. The important discovery
put forth in this memoir was the production of cholesterine in the
physiological wear "of the brain and nervous tissue, the elimination
of cholesterine by the liver, and its discharge in the form of stercorine
in the fasces. It was established that the new substance (stercorine)
results from the transformation of cholesterine in the fasces. The dis
eased condition caused by the retention of cholesterine in the blood
(cholesteraemia) is now recognized as a very important pathological
fact. Dr. Flint s laborious researches and interesting conclusions upon
this subject have been lately confirmed in Germany by experiments

SKETCH OF DR. AUSTIN FLINT, JR. 1O5

in which cholesteraamia has been produced in animals by injection of
cholesterine into the blood.

In 1867, at the request of the Commissioners of Public Charities
and Correction of New York City, Dr. Flint reorganized the dietary
system for the institutions under their charge, including Bellevue Hos
pital, Charity Hospital, Poorhouse, Workhouse, Penitentiary, etc., etc.,
making diet-tables for more than 10,000 persons. In 1871 he made
observations upon Weston, the pedestrian, analyzing his food and
secretions for fifteen days before, during, and after one of his great
walking-exploits. These inquiries help to decide some important
physiological questions.

In 1869 Dr. Flint published an elaborate review of the history of
the discovery of the motor and sensory properties of the roots of the
spinal nerves, in which the discovery was ascribed to Magendie in
stead of to Sir Charles Bell, who has generally been regarded as its
author. This review, originally published in the Journal of Psycho
logical Medicine, New York, in 1868, was translated into French, and
published in Robin s Journal de V anatomie. It produced such an im
pression that it was soon followed by the publication, in the English
Journal of Anatomy, of the original paper of Charles Bell, "Idea of
a New Anatomy of the Brain," which was privately printed (not pub
lished) in 1811. The original manuscript was furnished to the Jour
nal of Anatomy by the widow of Sir Charles Bell. It was upon this
paper that the claims of Charles Bell to the discovery were based ;
and, before its publication in the Journal of Anatomy, it had been
entirely inaccessible.

Claude Bernard has been the eminent advocate of the theory that
the liver is a sugar-producing organ ; but observations upon this sub
ject were discordant, and eminent physiologists contested Bernard s
position. In 1869 Dr. Flint published, in tlie NEW YORK MEDICAL
JOURXAL, a series of experiments upon the " glycogenic function of the
liver," in which he endeavored to harmonize the various conflicting
observations, and is considered by most physiologists to have settled
the question.

In 1866 he announced the publication of the "Physiology of
Man," a work in five volumes, of 500 pages each, and the last volume
was issued in 1874. He printed a little work in 1870 on "Chemical
Examinations of Urine in Disease," which went through several edi
tions. He contributed the articles on gymnastics and pugilism to the
" American Cyclopaedia," was appointed Surgeon-General of the State
of New York by Governor Tilden in 1874, and has recently published
a voluminous " Text-book of Human Physiology." He has also writ
ten much for scientific periodicals and popular journals, and has been
actively engaged in his duties as a physiological teacher.

io6

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

EDITOR S TABLE.

THE NEW DEPARTURE AT THE CEN
TENNIAL EXHIBITION.

A 1 r E print the report of Gommis-
VV sioner Beck with on the plan
that has been adopted for the distribu
tion of awards to exhibitors at the Phil
adelphia Exposition. In this matter
the Centennial Commissioners have
taken a new and very important step
in advance of previous practice. The
report is significant, as indicating a
departure from the precedents of all
former international exhibitions in a
fundamental and perhaps the most im
portant feature of their management.
The system of gold medals and special
prizes heretofore adopted has been
abandoned, and articles of exhibition
are to go upon their merits, as deter
mined by competent judges from this
country and abroad, and who will be
responsible to the public for the opin
ions they give by signing their names
to the published reports. This is a vic
tory of honest good sense over former
bad practices, which is most encour
aging, and deserving of the heartiest
commendation.

International expositions are new
things in the world s experience. That
is, they are new, as enormous exten
sions of local fairs and exhibitions
which have been long in vogue. The
primary idea was to bring all kinds of
products together for public inspection
and purchase. The show-element grad
ually became predominant, and the fair
grew into an exhibition. The collection
of rival commodities naturally led to
competition, and this to committees of
judgment or juries, which gave premi
ums for articles of the greatest ex
cellence. Medals of gold, silver, and
bronze, were assigned as testimonials
of excellence in the articles approved.
When the exhibitions grew into their

great international proportions, this old
method of awards was continued. But
it was a very imperfect method, and
its evils came out conspicuously in the
great shows of London, Paris, and Vi
enna. The plan of granting graded
medals is necessarily crude and inade
quate ; for, even if the awards are made
upon the best judgment of the juries,
they tell nothing, and are besides arbi
trary and misleading. The differences
among competing articles, in most
cases, will not be as marked as the
gradation of medals implies; so that
their award will necessarily work in
justice. There may be a score of prod
ucts of the same kind, each, perhaps,
with special merits, and none conspicu
ously preeminent ; so that a gold med
al awarded to one will greatly exagger
ate its claims, and grossly wrong its
rivals.

But this is not all, nor the worst.
Medals become valuable and are eagerly
sought because of the very injustice
they work. To crown a single article,
casts virtual reproach upon all its com
petitors ; and hence the gold medal
which exalts one thing and disparages
all in rivalry with it is striven for with
desperate eagerness by exhibitors on
account of the commercial advantages
that follow. The door is thus opened
to every form of illegitimate influence
that can be brought to bear upon the
judges. The prizes to be won, being
of enormous value, are fought for with
such a reckless disregard of the means
employed that men of integrity often
quit the juries in disgust rather than be
implicated in their corrupt proceedings.
How great the strain must be, in many
cases, is apparent when we reflect that,
if the old system were in operation at the
Philadelphia Exposition, there would
probably be many exhibitors who could

EDITOR S TABLE.

107

afford to pay, each a million dollars, to
secure the gold medal that would place
their articles in advance of all com
petitors. Nor is there anything in re
cent American experiences that would
justify us in expecting an incorruptible
administration of the duties of jurymen.
Even where the distribution of medals
is supplemented and corrected by writ
ten reports the results must be unsatis
factory, for it is of small moment to the
public that the award has been qualified
or contradicted in a printed document.
The verdict of the medal itself will
be held as the important and decisive
thing. Mr. Beckwith, who has not only
had experience of the old practice,
but has carefully studied its general
workings, points out in his report the
inadequacy of the European jury sys
tem and the defectiveness of its results.
Profiting by these failures, the Phila
delphia plan has been organized to
avoid them, and give us more valuable
and trustworthy work.

The first purpose of such a collec
tion of the products of art, science, and
industry, as will be displayed in Phila
delphia, undoubtedly is, that its objects
may be seen and inspected by the pub
lic ; yet the mere gratification of curi
osity by staring at new and strange
things is certainly its lowest advantage.
Such exhibitions are only put to their
best and proper use as means of public
education, in which observers become
inquirers, and get a knowledge of the
true qualities and characters of the
things exhibited. The value of the dis
play will be in proportion to its intelli
gent appreciation, and the management
of the affair must be judged by the effi
ciency and completeness of the means
adopted to instruct the public in re
gard to it. To this end, the first step
was to get rid of the misguiding and
vicious system of medals, and then to
secure capable men to furnish discrim
inating and responsible reports. It is
well for the national honor and for
wholesome public influence that the
most efficient measures have been taken

to put things for once upon their naked
and sterling merits. The selection of a
hundred able experts from abroad, with
a hundred more to be furnished by this
country as judges, who are to be paid
their personal expenses, and who are
committed by their reputations to give
honest and competent verdicts on the
intrinsic and comparative merits of ob
jects exhibited the reports to be pub
lished for the use of visitors at the ear
liest practicable moment is a measure
on the part of the commissioners at
once so sensible and so just that it
raises some perplexity as to how it has
been brought about. The old method
of proceeding is so rooted in universal
usage, and so congenial with the fierce
competitive spirit of American business,
that we cannot for a moment suppose
it has failed to make its best fight
against this innovation. That it should
have been beaten, and a greatly supe
rior method adopted by the commis
sioners, is alike unexpected and a cause
of devout gratitude.

But the policy initiated at Philadel
phia has a still further significant It
is not merely a transient expedient in
the tactics of a great show, but it de
clares a principle of wide and perma
nent application in society. Its adop
tion strikes a blow at the all -prevailing
habit of offering prizes as artificial
stimulants to effort, instead of making
the intrinsic excellence of work and its
intelligent appreciation the true im
pulse of exertion and enterprise. Com
petitions are inflamed in all directions
by sordid and selfish temptations, but
it is in education that the system of ex
trinsic rewards and factitious provoca
tions is carried to the greatest extent,
and leads to the most mischievous re
sults. The practice of giving prizes in
schools is vicious as substituting spu
rious and unworthy motives to exertion,
where the very object is to form the
character by bringing generous and en
nobling incitements into habitual and
controlling exercise. To beat an an
tagonist, and win a medal or a purse,

io8

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

is a vulgar and sordid inducement to
study, and convicts the school that re
sorts to it of inefficiency in its legiti
mate and most essential work. It is,
moreover, an injurious agency in edu
cation, as it is constantly used to stim
ulate students in false directions, and
to the excessive cultivation of unim
portant subjects. Our education is in
a state of chaos in regard to the rela
tive values of different kinds of knowl
edge. The waste of time and effort
over comparatively worthless studies is
something quite appalling, and it is
everywhere aggravated by plying schol
ars with premiums for special attain
ments. Rich blockheads, with narrow
notions and tenacious crotchets, smit
ten with the vanity of becoming public
benefactors, go into the schools and
found prizes and medals which set
the students to racing in any direction
which the whim or caprice of the donor
may indicate. This evil is confessed,
and has become so glaring that some
institutions have wisely put a stop to
such interference. But, as it is driven
frorn^he schools, it is taken up by out
siders, as we have seen in the intercol
legiate contests that have lately come
into vogue. Against this whole system
the Philadelphia policy, as presented in
Mr. Beckwith s report, is a tacit but
powerful protest. To get things upon
their real merits is a victory anywhere
to do this upon a great, unprecedent
ed national occasion is a triumph but
there is no reason for adopting the prin
ciple in an exhibition of the products of
manufacture that will not apply with
increasing force to the management of
educational establishments.

JUDGE DALY S ADDRESS.

IT is not easy to deal with the an
nual presidential addresses of Charles P.
Daly before the Geographical Society.
They are so fresh, readable, and full of
novel and instructive matter, that there
is a temptation to reprint them bodily.
We have formerly spoiled them by sum

marizing; this year we publish in full
the introductory portion, in which he
glances at the achievements of geo
graphical explorers during the third
quarter of the nineteenth century end
ing in 1875, and shows what the state
of things was at the beginning of that
age, and what it is now. The main
portion of the address, however, is de
voted to an account of the researches,
discoveries, and geographical work, of
the past year. We are tempted to
make some further use of Judge Daly s
labors, which may incite our readers to
procure the full address and read it
themselves. Beginning with what has
been done in our own country, Presi
dent Daly suras up the results of the
various exploring expeditions and sur
veys undertaken or aided by the Gov
ernment, in the great Western, North
western, and Southwestern tracts of
the continent. The results are varied
and interesting. In the prehistoric sec
tion, on the ancient inhabitants of
America, the evidence has been much
extended in regard to the life of the
old race of mound-builders. In refer
ence to the antiquity of man on this
continent, it is remarked :

" Prof. J. D. Whitney, from the remains
found by him in California, is of the opinion
that man existed there as long ago as the
Tertiary period ; that he was then the maker
of instruments for grinding corn, as well as
other implements of stone, and, as far as the
examination of the imperfect skull which
was found warrants a conclusion, that ho
was, at that remote period, the same ana
tomically that he is now. These discoveries
of Prof. Whitney s go to show that man ex
isted during the Glacial epoch, which is con
firmed after seven years examination of the
deposits in the Victoria Cave, in England,
and by recent discoveries in the inter-glacial
coal-beds of Switzerland. The Glacial epoch
is computed by Mr. Croll, in his recent work,
to have ended, about 80,000 years ago ; and
Mr. Croll is not only one of the best au
thorities, but the one whose estimate of the
time is the lowest."

The work of arctic exploration con
tinues to be vigorously pushed, and with
promising results. A point of interest

EDITOR S TABLE.

109

is, that the English and German geog
raphers have abandoned the routes
they formerly advocated, and have,
with great unanimity, united in recom
mending that the English expedition
which left last June, under the com
mand of Captain Nares, should go
through Smith s Sound, following up
the track of Kane, Hayes, and Hall
the route that has been uniformly
urged by the American Geographical
Society as the best. At a crowded
meeting of the Royal Geographical So
ciety, at which the officers of the expe
dition and most of the distinguished
arctic explorers were present, the
American theory of polar approach
was heartily commended :

" Admiral Omraanny, formerly a promi
nent opponent of the route now adopted,
also said that England must be grateful to
her American cousins, who had cleared the
way by successful operations through Smith
Sound. When it is remembered that our
early efforts in this direction were ignored,
that the name of Grinnell Land, in Welling
ton Channel, was at first omitted upon Eng
lish maps, and the name of a subsequent
English explorer substituted, that our route
by the way of Smith Sound received little
support except from Admiral Sherard Os-
born, Admiral Ingletield, and Mr. Clements
R. Markham, this change of opinion and
hearty recognition now are very gratifying,
especially to our member, Dr. Hayes, the
only one of our exploring commanders in
the Arctic who is now alive."

To show that, in this boasted scien
tific age, geographical notions are still
entertained as crude as those held five
hundred years ago, Judge Daly gives
an account of some of the theories that
are still seriously advocated. One of
these is described as follows :

"About the year 1819, Captain J. C.
Symmes, an officer of the regular Army of
the United States, advanced a theory, to the
propagation of which he devoted the re
mainder of his life, that the earth was hol
low, was inhabited within, and had an
opening at the pole, which became known
throughout the country as Symmes s Hole.
He pressed the subject upon Congress, urged
an expedition to the pole to test his theory,

and a Russian gentleman is said to have
offered to fit one out if Symmes would con
duct it under the auspices of Russia, which
the captain declined, on the ground that the
honor of establishing the theory should be
long to the United States. He went over
the country, delivering lectures in support
of this theory, in which he firmly believed
to the day of his death. Ilis son, now an
old man, has revived it, and is advocating
it, as his father did, by delivering public
lectures. The father s theory was, that this
hole or opening in the Arctic was about one
thousand miles in diameter, and somewhat
wider at the Antarctic ; and now that we
have reached within five hundred miles of
the arctic pole, about half of the assumed
diameter of the supposed hole, without any
indication so far of its existence, the son be^
lieves that if Captain Hall hud got several
degrees farther north he would have found
evidence of the truth of the theory.

" Captain Hall startled us at the reception
given to him and his officers by this Society,
before the departure of the Polaris, by an
nouncing publicly to us his belief in the ex
istence of this hole, and of his determination
to go in pursuit of it ; a belief which, being
an uneducated man, and but little acquainted
with the geography of the Arctic, was firmly
fixed in his mind. It was in pursuit of this
supposed hole that he meant to attempt the
passage to the pole by the way of *oues s
Sound. 1 pointed out to him the impractica
bility of an attempt through Jones s Sound,
and urged him to go as Kane and Hayes had
done, by the way of Smith Sound, which
course he ultimately adopted when advised
to the same effect by Baron van Otten of the
Swedish Expedition, whom he met during
his voyage at Holsteinberg in Davis Strait.

" In a letter put forth last February, by
Mr. Symmes, he not only argues that the
earth is hollow, but that it has as much in
habitable surface within as without. He
imagines that the inside is inhabited by
human beings who are the progenitors of the
white race, now upon the outer surface, and
that there are apertures at the poles four or
more hundred miles in diameter. This re
calls the belief as to the cause of the earth s
motion in the middle ages, when it became
apparent from the researches of Copernicus
and Galileo that it revolved upon its a^is,
which accounted for the motion by suppos
ing that the interior of the earth was hollow,
and was the place to which the damned were
condemned, who produced the motion by
their continual attempts to climb up the in
side of this hollow ball in their fruitless

110

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

efforts to get out. A woodcut representing
this strange belief will be found in an old
cosmography in our library."

Meteorological and earthquake dis
turbances of the past year are noted ;
and, with an account of the voyage of
the Challenger and the important re
sults attained by it, Judge Daly passes
to the progress of geographical work in
Europe, and gives an instructive ac
count of the drainage of the Zuyder Zee
now undertaken by the people of Hol
land, who have become masters of hy
draulics by necessity, as their whole
country lies twelve feet below the level
of the sea. They drained the Haarlem
Lake, twelve miles long, seven miles
wide, and fourteen feet deep, and cov
ered it with thriving farms and villages,
and were so pleased with tke specula
tion that they have now undertaken to
drain off the Zuyder Zee, which em
braces an area of 759 square miles, and
by which they propose to add six per
cent, of fertile land to the total area of
the country. It is a dull waste of half-
navigable waters with low, marshy bor
ders. J They are first to construct an
immense dike 1G4 feet wide at the bot
tom of the sea, and rising to a height of
twenty-six feet above it, making a total
length of wall, near the narrow opening
of the sea, twenty-five statute miles.
The inclosed area will be divided into
squares, and pumped out at an expense
of $48,000,000, or about $100 an acre.
Our Yankees, who are being drowned
by the score in the overflow of their
ponds, might learn something about
dams from these Dutchmen.

The president next attacks Asia,
and gives us a great deal of valuable in
formation of the results of geographical
inquiry in various portions of its im
mense area, of which the following has
a very human interest :

u Mr, Bond, of the Indian Trigonometrical
Survey, discovered two of the wild dwarfish
race who live in the hill -jungles of the West
ern Galitz, to the southwest of the Palini
Hills, a race which, though often heard of, no
trace of had previously been found by the sur

vey. A man and a woman were discovered
The man was four feet six inches high, and.
26i inches about the chest. He had a round
head with coarse, black, woolly hair and
dark-brown skin, a forehead low and slightly
retreating, the lower part of the face project
ing like that of a monkey, with thick lips,
protruding about an inch beyond his nose ;
a comparatively long body fur his size, with
short, bandy legs, and arms extending almost
to his knees. The hands and fingers were so
contracted that they could not be made to
stretch out straight and fiat. The palms and
fingers Were covered with a thick skin, par
ticularly the tips of the fingers, the nails be
ing small and imperfect, and the feet broad
and thick-skinned all over. He had a gray
ish-white, scanty, coarse mustache like bris
tles, but no beard. The woman, who was
about of the same size, was of yellow tint,
with long, black, straight hair, and features
well formed as contrasted with those of the
man, there being no difference between her
appearance and that of the common women
of that part of the country. She had an
agreeable expression, was well developed
and modest. Their simple dress was a loose
cloth, and, though they ate flesh, they lived
chiefly on roots and honey. They have no
fixed dwelling-places, but sleep between
rocks, or in caves, near which they happen
to be at night, when they light a fire and
cook what they have collected during the
day, maintaining the fire during the night for
warmth, and to keep off wild animals. Their
religion, such as they have, is the worship of
certain local divinities of the forest. This is
a new pygmy race, resembling the African
Obongos of Du Chaillu, the Akkas of
Schweinfurth, and the Dokos of Dr. Krapf,
in their size, appearance and habits."

Africa is, however, now the great
point of assault by geographical explor
ers, and there oome the most wonderful
revelations regarding the fertility and
beauty of various of its extensive re
gions, with curious descriptions of its
government and peoples. Dr. Nachti-
gal, describing Wadai, in Northeast Af
rica

"Fixes the population of the country at
about two and a half millions, and says that
the surface elevation of the land is from
west to east, with an elevation of from 1,000
to 1,500 feet above the sea-level. Numerous
small streams flow from the eastern heights,
falling into the two principal rivers, the
Kafa and Peaka. The country is divided

EDITOR S TABLE.

111

into seven provinces; the religion is Mo
hammedan, and the king, whose power is
arbitrary, is looked upon as a sort of divini
ty. The king s harem consists of about 500
wives, and all his sons, except the heir to
the throne, are blinded with hot irons, a
duty performed by the king of the smiths,
sdio is also the surgeon of the harem. The
people are skillful workers in iron, but given
to the drinking of an intoxicating beer, a
practice which great eiforts are made to re
press. Spies are extensively employed for
that purpose, and any man upon whose
premises the forbidden liquor is found is
punished by having his wife s head shaved.
The king has an army of 40,000 infantry and
6,000 cavalry, and the country is heavily
taxed for the support of the king and his
expensive government."

Judge Daly quietly compares our
own u best Government on the face of
the earth " with one of these African
governments, and finds the compari
son "not complimentary to our intelli
gence." Here is the passage :

" The Egyptian Geographical Society,
under the presidency of Dr. G. Schweinfurth,
the distinguished African explorer, was es
tablished this year at Cairo, through the
liberality of the Khedive, consisting of 300
members, with an annual income of $T,000.
A substantial portion of this income is
granted by the Government in view of the
advantages to the nation of the labors of
the Geographical Society, as is the case with
several of the leading Geographical Societies
of Europe. But it would be hard to con
vince our Government of the utility of aid
ing, by pecuniary means, our Society, the
only one in this country, when it would not
even incur the expense of sending a com
missioner to the late great Geographical
Congress at Paris, and to our shame we were
the only civilized nation that was unrepre
sented in the exposition. It is not compli
mentary to our intelligence and our cosmo
politan relations to the world, of which we
form so important a part, that we have a
Government that takes no interest in the
advance of civilization, and of the trade,
commerce, and industry of the world at
large, through geographical exploration and
discovery, the means by which it has been
chiefly advanced, from the dawn of civiliza
tion to the present time. It was not the
fault of this Society that our country was
not represented in the exposition, for ear
nest efforts were made by us n well ae by the

French minister, but were met by the reply
that the Congress in Paris was the affair of
a private society, which was not the view
taken by the other civilized nations, who
made liberal grants of money for the success
of an undertaking in which the whole world
was interested. With our limited means,
all that we could do was to send a delega
tion, as nothing could be received for ex
hibition except under the charge of a com
missioner of the government of the country
from which it was sent. If the gentlemen
charged with the administration of our Gov
ernment read the frequent expressions of
surprise that I have read in the various ac
counts written of the exposition, at the ab
sence of any representation from the United
States, they would not, I think, be very
much impressed with the wisdom and policy
of the exceptional position in which they
placed our country and people. This was
not a case in which we could afford to be in
different, as we do not constitute the whole
world."

THE "ACADEMY" FOR AMERICANS.

WE had occasion some time ago to
refer to the unscrupulous critical spirit
which animates a London weekly called
the Academy, a periodical established
and conducted on the principle of bully
ing itself into notice by copying and
exaggerating the most arbitrary feat
ures of British journalism. A special
effort has been made to push the cir
culation of the Academy in this country,
which makes it proper to point out the
policy it has adopted toward American
as well as English authors. A little
American book on botany was repub-
lished in London, and attacked by the
Academy in the most vicious way. The
criticism was a string of the grossest
misrepresentations, by which the whole
character of the book was falsified and
libeled. Its author happened to be in
London at the time, and wrote a letter
to the editor of the Academy, exposing
the character of its criticism. The
editor refused to print it, and the author
was compelled to seek another channel
to get the true state of the case before
the public. The letter declined by the
Academy was printed by the Examiner.

1 12

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

A similar thing has just been done
again. Max Miiller was allowed to
use the Academy columns to abuse and
misrepresent Prof. Whitney, of Yale
College, in matters of philology. The
American linguist replied to these
assaults in a letter to the Academy,
which again its editor refused to print,
and it found publicity, as before,
through the hospitable pages of the
Examiner. And this difference of fair
ness between the two journals goes
along with other differences which will
be of interest to American readers;
for, while the Academy is character
ized by the amount of its pedantic rub
bish and scholarly trumpery, suited to
the learned drones of Oxford and Cam
bridge, the Examiner addresses itself
more to the living questions of the
day, and discusses subjects of universal
interest, with an ability and indepen
dence that may commend it to Ameri
can readers desiring an English weekly.

LITERARY NOTICES.

THE UNSEEN WORLD, AND OTHER ESSAYS. By
JOHN FISKE, M. A. LL. B. Pp. 349.
Price $2. J. R. Osgood & Co.

To say that this volume is by the author
of the "Outlines of Cosmic Philosophy"
will be at once to commend it to a large
circle of readers ; but as a series of inter
esting papers on a wide variety of topics,
scientific, philosophic, artistic, historical,
and critical, it will be commended to many
who have not been attracted to the earlier and
more solid publication. Most of the articles
of the volume will be remembered as they
appeared in the periodicals ; admirable in
style, bold in thought, and rich in scholarly
erudition. Mr. Fiske has views of his own
which he works out with freedom, and often
with great beauty and force of statement.

The volume takes its name from the first
two essays, which lately appeared in the
Atlantic Monthly, and were read with inter
est by many thoughtful people. They start
from the speculations of a recent book en
titled "The Unseen Universe," which broke
into a somewhat new field of ingenious sci

entific conjecture, and was read with an
eager but rather perplexed curiosity by
those who are fond of transcendental in
quiries. This work has been already no
ticed in the MONTHLY, and is chiefly impor
tant as an effort by thoroughly disciplined
scientific men to arrive at the conception
of immortality and a realm of future spirit
ual life from the scientific point of view.
Mr. Fiske is in sympathy with this aspira
tion, but deals with the problem by his own
methods, and perhaps in an abler way than
the authors who opened the discussion.
We cannot here reproduce his views, which
are only to be understood by a careful pe
rusal of the essays in which they are pre
sented.

But, while cordially recommending this
volume as a whole, we must except the re
view of Draper s " History of the Conflict
between Religion and Science," which we
think somewhat unworthy the author. Mr.
Fiske adopts a deprecatory tone in speak
ing of Draper s books, which is construed
by the newspapers into contempt which
jumps with public prejudice, and is quite to
be expected from certain quarters ; but for
which he gives us no satisfactory reasons.

He charges Dr. Draper with superficiality
and mental idiosyncrasy, in not understand
ing Rome ; in not appreciating Greece ; ia
hostility to the Catholic Church ; in over
rating semi-barbarous civilizations, "and
above all an undiscriminating admiration
for everything, great or small, that has ever
worn the garb of Islam, or been associated
with the career of the Saracens." But, after
indulging in a little sarcasm at Dr. Draper s
admiration of the "turbaned sage," Mr.
Fiske finds himself compelled to say :

" Speaking briefly with regard to this matter,
we may freely admit that the work done by the
Arabs, in scientific inquiry as well as in the mak
ing of events, was very considerable. It was
a work, too, the value of which is not common
ly appreciated in the accounts of European his
tory written for the general reader, and we have
no disposition to find fault with Dr. Draper for
describing it with enth usiasm. The philoso
phers of Bagdad and Cordova did excellent ser
vice in keeping alive the traditions of Greek phys
ical inquiry at a time when Christian thinkers
were too exclusively occupied with transcenden
tal speculations in theology and logic. In some de
partments, as in chemistry and astronomy, they
made original discoveries of considerable value ;
and If we turn from abstract knowledge to the

LITERARY NOTICES.

arts of life, it cannot be denied that the mediae
val Mussulmans had reached a higher plane of
material comfort than their Christian contem
poraries. In short, the work of all kinds done by
these people would furnish the judicious advo
cate of the claims of the Semitic race with ma
terials for a pleasing and instructive picture."

Very well ; these are facts of some im
portance, but who had brought them out
for public appreciation before Dr. Draper
published his " History of the Intellectual
Development of Europe ? " And, although
Mr. Fiske may differ from him in regard to
the historical import of Arabian science, we
fail to see any occasion for the indulgence
of sneering and disparagement.

And now in regard to the " Conflict."
The theologians of all ilks, who have taken
up Dr. Draper s recent book, are agreed that
it is a piece of futility because there is real
ly no such conflict as that of which he pre
tends to have given the history. Messrs.
Brownson, Hill, Washburn, Deems, and Co.,
are vehement in asserting the groundless
ness and absurdity of Dr. Draper s assump
tion ; and now, as if he had been sitting
under the droppings of the Hippodrome,
Mr. Fiske cordially acquiesces in the ardent
views of these gentlemen. He says of Dr.
Draper : " When he enlarges on the trite
story of Galileo and alludes to the more
modern quarrel between the Church and
geologists, and does this in the belief that
he is thereby illustrating an antagonism be
tween Religion and Science, it is obvious
that he identifies the cause of the anti-
geologists and the persecutors of Galileo
with the cause of Religion. The word re
ligion is to him a symbol which stands for
unenlightened bigotry or narrow-minded un
willingness to look facts in the face. . . .
It is, nevertheless, a very superficial con
ception, and no book which is vitiated by
it can have much philosophic value. . . .
Since, then, the scientific innovator does
not, either voluntarily or involuntarily, at
tack religion, it follows that there can be no
such conflict as that of which Dr. Draper
has undertaken to write the history. The
real contest is between one phase of science
and another." This will hardly do. Mr.
Fiske says that no book vitiated by this
superficial conception can have much philo
sophic value. But, in the " First Principles "
of Herbert Spencer, on page 11, we read :
VOL. ix. 8

"Of all antagonisms of belief, the oldest,
the widest, the most profound, and the most
important, is that between religion and science.
It commenced when the recognition of the sim
plest uniformities in surrounding things set a
limit to the previous universal fetichism. It
shows itself everywhere throughout the domain
of human knowledge, affecting men s interpre
tations alike of the simplest mechanical acci
dents and of the most complicated events in the
histories of nations. It has its roots deep down
in the diverse habits of thought of different
orders of minds. And the conflicting concep
tions of Nature and life which these diverse
habits of thought severally generate, influence
for good or ill the tone of feeling and the daily
conduct. An unceasing battle of opinion like
this, which has been carried on throughout all
ages, under the banners of religion and science/
etc.

Mr. Spencer, of course, holds to the
possibility of an ultimate reconciliation be
tween Religion and Science, but he does not
commit the folly of denying their past and
present antagonism. Dr. Draper has made
no attempt to deal with the philosophy of
the subject, and he is not to be judged by
that standard. Assuming, as Spencer has
done, that it is a fact, and a fact of vast
significance, he is the first to have given us
its history ; and, whatever opinion may be
entertained regarding the manner of its ex
ecution, he had a valid theme, and deals
with veritable phenomena. And, had his
manner of doing the work been more open
to attack, we should probably have heard a
good deal less about the baselessness of the
antagonism which he has described.

The point of contention is as to what
constitutes religion. Dr. Draper was justi
fied in taking the term in its current sig
nificance as comprehending the general doc
trines and policy of religious organizations.
That sects differ, and eat each other up in
their denials of dogmas, was nothing to
him. And, though they should all agree
at last as to what religion is, and discredit
the total affirmations of past theology, the
historical aspects of the case will remain the
same. He was not called upon to settle
sectarian disputes, or to find out that de
nomination which possesses the true faith.
Mr. Fiske complains of him for not defining
this element of his thesis, and he proceeds
to do it himself, as follows : " All animals
seek for fullness of life ; but in civilized
man this craving has acquired a moral sig
nificance, and has become a spiritual aspira-

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tion ; and this emotional tendency, more or
less strong in the human race, we call reli
gious feeling or religion." Admirable ! but
how far accepted? We hope that the
agreement of Messrs. Brownson, Hill, Wash-
burn, Deems, Fiske, and Co., in denouncing
the groundlessness of the " conflict," will
not be construed as implying any agree
ment among the parties as to what religion
is. If these gentlemen will get together and
settle the point, an important step will be
gained ; and THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY
will gladly pay the expenses of a convention
of reasonable length for such a purpose, but
we stipulate not to foot the bills until they
reach an agreement.

A SHORT HISTORY OF NATURAL SCIENCE AND
OF THE PROGRESS OF DISCOVERY FROM THE
TIME OF THE GREEKS TO THE PRESENT
DAY. For the Use of Schools and Young
Persons. With Illustrations. Pp. 467.
D. Appleton & Co. Price, $2.

WE called attention recently to the in
fluence of the Centennial in stimulating the
study of political history, and expressed
the hope that the gathering together of the
products of art, science, and industry, of
all nations, at the Great Exhibition in
Philadelphia, would have the effect of pro
moting the historical study of this class
of subjects in American schools. It was
pointed out that this line of literature has
been greatly neglected, and is so backward
that students desiring to attend to it would
be much perplexed to find suitable text
books for the purpose. An important and
very successful step has, however, been tak
en to supply this deficiency. The work
now published under the above title, con
sidering that it is the first attempt to treat
the history of science in a brief and popular
way for educational purposes, is of very su
perior merit. We took it up with doubt,
we read it with a growing interest, and cor
dially recommend it both for general read
ing and as a school-book. The authoress
has made no scientific discoveries ; and we
question if there are many who have done
so who could make so judicious a compend
of general scientific history as she has done.
But, if she has not made a name as an ex
plorer, she has been a careful student of
science, and, having been for many years
secretary to the late Sir Charles Lyell, and

brought into contact with many of the
leading scientific men of the day, she had
peculiar opportunities of qualifying her
self for the task of writing a popular scien
tific history. Her style is clear and di
rect, and her power of explanation we think
something quite unusual, while the propor
tions in which the subjects are treated evince
good artistic judgment in the work of book-
making. Illustrations are introduced with
discretion, to help the text, and brief bio
graphical notices are interspersed which
give interest to the course of the* narra
tive, and the exposition of scientific work.
The book is, moreover, essentially ac
curate and trustworthy ; and executed with
far more faithfulness than is usual in com
pilations. Miss Buckley s volume ought to
be unhesitatingly and extensively adopted
in our schools, and kept there until super
seded by a better, which we suspect will
not be very soon. We do not recommend
it to be memorized, or made a matter of
formal recitation, so much as for a reading-
book to be gone over by suitable classes,
with such questions and suggestions as an
intelligent teacher can impart. So used,
its influence in schools cannot be otherwise
than valuable.

DISEASES OF MODERN LIFE. By B. W.

RICHARDSON, M. D., F. R. S. Pp. 520.

New York : D. Appleton & Co. Price,

$2.

WE have already given some excerpts
from advance-sheets of this book, which is
just issued. Dr. Richardson was led to the
treatment of the subject by having first
given special attention to the diseases of
overworked men. He printed some essays
on this topic, and followed them by others
on diseases induced by various occupations
and by indulgence in the use of alcohol
and tobacco. These articles, having under
gone revision and considerable extension,
make up the present volume. The author
carefully abstains from infringing upon
the proper art of curing disease which be
longs to the medical practitioner, and con
fines himself mainly to the symptoms and
causes of modern maladies, and to hints
toward their prevention. While the book
will not be without value to physicians, it
is carefully adapted to the wants and capa
city of general readers. We have simply

LITERARY NOTICES.

to say that this volume is, in a high degree
both interesting and useful. It presents in
a pleasant form, and with pointed applica
tions, the sort of information that shoulc
be most widely distributed, and abounds in
facts and suggestions of importance that
cannot be readily obtained elsewhere.

FLORAL DECORATIONS FOR THE DWELLING
HOUSE. A Practical Guide to the Home
Arrangement of Plants and Flowers.
By ANNIE HASSARD. American edition,
revised. With many Illustrations. Pp
166. New York : Macmillan & Co.
Price, $1.50.

THIS little book, written by a person
who evidently understands fully the art of
floral decoration, will be found helpfully
suggestive to all those who wish to make
flowers accessory to the attractiveness of
their homes.

The author aims, by both illustration
and statement, to render the principles un
derlying her art so plain that any woman
may tastefully and successfully decorate her
table, adorn her drawing-room, and in some
sense, by the use of plants around her win
dows and balconies, bring to the interior of
home not only the beauty but the simple
delights of the external garden. The whole
subject of table-decoration, including forms
of stands and vases, the arrangement of
fruit and flowers, the adjustment of these
to the light, materials and means for keep
ing flowers fresh, as well as window-gar
dening, hanging baskets, grouping of plants,
wreaths, crosses, and even button-hole bou
quets, find very instructive treatment in this
little volume. It is shown how the simplest
available materials ferns, grasses, autumn
leaves no less than the richest products of
the florist s art, may serve, in the hands of
the skillful manipulator, to produce most
graceful effects.

The chromatic principles of grouping
are indicated in the following extract :

" In producing harmonious contrasts of col
ors, it should be remembered that there are only
three primary colors red, blue, and yellow.
From these arise what are called the binary or
secondary colors, namely, orange, composed of
yellow and red ; purple, composed of blue and
red; and green, composed of yellow and blue.
These form contrasting colors to the primary
three with which they are in harmonious oppo
sition, as the orange with blue, purple with yel
low, and green with red. From the combina

tion with these secondary colors arise three
tertiary colors olive, from purple and green ;
citron, from green and orange; and russet
from orange and purple. These tertiary colors
harmonize with the primaries, as they stand in
the relation of neutral tints to them, but are in
harmonious opposition to the secondaries from
which they are combined. Red, blue, and yel
low, harmonize with each other, and they may
be placed in juxtaposition, but purple should
not be near red or blue, as it is composed of
these two colors, the rule being that no primary
color should be brought into contact with a
secondary of which itself is a component part ;
nor any secondary color brought into contact
with a tertiary color of which it is a component
part."

MEMOIR AND CORRESPONDENCE OP CAROLINE
HERSCHEL. By Mrs. JOHN HERSCHEL.
With Portraits. Pp. 355. New York :
D. Appleton & Co. Price, $1.75.

THIS is one of the most fresh and charm
ing volumes that has come from the press
in many a day. It is of such unique and
special attraction that we have drawn upon
it for the materials of two articles in the
MONTHLY, which cannot fail to incite the
reader to desire the perusal of the whole
book. And it will amply repay the most
careful reading. Aside from the interest
at every step in the life of the remarkable
woman who tells her own story in such a
vivid and racy way, this biography will
have permanent value as connected with
the rise of modern sidereal astronomy, and
as throwing light upon the characteristics
of an illustrious scientific family. Tele
scopes, new planets, comets, double stars,
and nebulae, are always attractive things to
read about, but what engages us most in-
ently with these pages is that they overflow
with human nature from beginning to end.

ANALYTICAL PROCESSES ; OR, THE PRIMARY
PRINCIPLE OP PHILOSOPHY. By WIL
LIAM I. GILL, A. M. Pp. 483" New
York : The Authors Publishing Com
pany. Price, $2.

THE author of this book made his mark
as an acute and independent thinker by
the publication, a year or two since, of a
volume called " Evolution and Progress."
The present volume is the first of a series,
each complete in itself, in which a fresh at
tempt will be made to construct a philoso
phy. No intimation is given as to what
will be its character, the present book be
ing occupied entirely with the foundation,

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and with only one element of that the pri- i
mary principle of all reasoning. This prin
ciple the author finds in the law of ndn-
contradiction, which simply says to system-
makers, " Be consistent, or do not contradict
yourselves." Obvious as this principle is,
we are told that in all ages it has been ac
cepted or rejected alternately according to
the exigencies of philosophical speculation,
having been nullified by theologians and
philosophers from Augustine to Kant. It
therefore needs reelucidation, to which Mr.
Gill has devoted his volume. The book
gives abundant scope for the exercise of
philosophical genius, in which its author is
not wanting. Our most eminent metaphysi
cians, as Drs. McCosh and Anderson, recog
nize his strong claims as a thinker, and we
have no doubt his volume will attract the
attention of serious students, and prove a
valuable addition to American philosophi
cal literature.

MILITARY MAP OF THE INDIAN TERRITORY.

Compiled by First - Lieutenant E. H.

KUFFNER, of the Engineers.

THIS valuable map, the preparation of
which has occupied Lieutenant Ruffner and
Mr. Ado Hunnius, draughtsman and en
graver, for some three years, is based on
Government and railroad surveys, previous
ly-published maps, military surveys and
reconnoissances, etc. The scale is made
large enough for marching-purposes, and
the topographical details are such as are
needed in directing military movements.
The task of compiling such a map as this
of the Indian Territory is one that involves
an enormous amount of labor, and it ap
pears to have been performed with consci
entious fidelity by Lieutenant Ruffner. The
draughtsman s work is also deserving of
great^ credit. The map is on the scale of
1 : 500,000.

WE have received the initial number of
The Home Scientist, published at Wads
worth, Ohio. The Home Scientist is a month
ly, eight-page journal, in quarto, devoted tc
the diffusion of popular scientific knowledge
This first number, both in its original an(
hi its selected matter, shows evidence of
competent editorship. We wish it success
J. A. Clark, publisher. Terms, $1 per an
num.

THE POLYTECHNIC REVIEW. We have
eceived from the publishers the first num-
er of a monthly periodical bearing the
ibove title. In form it is a large quarto of
welve pages, tastefully printed on fine pa
yer. The Review is designed to chronicle
and illustrate the progress of science as ap-
ilied to the useful arts, such as engineering
n all its branches civil, mechanical, naval,
military, and sanitary ; gas and water sup-
>ly, and sewerage ; chemical technology,
with particular reference to mining, metal-
urgy, and manufacturing chemical indus-
;ries ; manufactures in general, and the me
chanic arts. That the Polytechnic Review
will be conducted with energy and ability,
the names of the editors, William H. Wall,
Ph. D., and Robert Grimshaw, Ph. D., are a
sufficient guarantee. Philadelphia: Pub
lished by the editors, 119 South Fourth
Street. $3 per annum.

PUBLICATIONS RECEIVED.

Geological Survey of Alabama. Report
of Progress for 1875. By Eugene A. Smith,
Ph.D. Montgomery, Alabama, 1876. Pp.
212.

Memoirs of the Peabody Academy of
Science, vol. i., No. iv. Fresh-Water Shell
Mounds of the St. John s River, Florida.
By Jeffries Wyman, Salem, Massachusetts.
Pp. 87.

Statistics of Births, Marriages, and
Deaths, in the City of Philadelphia for the
Year 1874. Compiled by William H. Ford,
M. D. Philadelphia, 1875. Pp. 133.

Experiments with the Alleged New
Force. By George M. Beard, A. M., M. D.,
New York, 1876. Pp. 28.

Report of the Health-Officer of the City
of Oakland, California, 1875. By George E.
Sherman, M. D. Oakland, 1876. Pp. 32.

Reports of the Trustees and Superin
tendent of the Butler Hospital for the In
sane, Providence, 1876. Pp. 37.

Immobility or Closure of the Jaw, with
Report of Cases. By W. F. Westmoreland,
M. D. Atlanta, Georgia, 1875. Pp. 10.

The Public-School Question as under-
derstood by a Catholic-American Citizen

MISCELLANY.

and by a Liberal American Citizen. By
Bishop McQuaid and Francis E. Abbott.
Boston, 1876. Pp. 100.

Historical Sketch of the Columbus
Public Schools. Columbus, Ohio. Pp. 31.

An Exposition and Defense of Homoe
opathy. By George Pyborn, M. D. George
town, Colorado, 1876. Pp. 36.

Legal Chemistry, A Guide to the Detec
tion of Poisons, Examination of Stains,
etc., as applied to Chemical Jurisprudence.
By A. Naguet. Translated by J. P. Batter-
shall, Nat. Sc. D., with a Preface by C. F.
Chandler, Ph. D., M. D., LL. D. New York :
D. Van Nostrand, 1876. Pp. 178. Price,
$2.

Life Histories of the Birds of Eastern
Pennsylvania. By Thomas G. Gentry. In
Two Volumes. Vol. i. Philadelphia, 1876.
Pp. 399.

Prehistoric Man. By Daniel Wilson,
LL. D., F. R. S. E. In Two Volumes. Lon
don: Macmillan & Co., 1826. Pp. 391 and
401. Price, $12.

Report of the Chief Signal-Officer to
the Secretary of War for the Year 1875.
By Albert J. Meyer. Pp. 475. With nu
merous Maps.

Exercises in Electrical and Magnetic
Measurement. By R. E. Day, M. A. Lon
don : Longmans, Green & Co., 1876. Pp.
120.

Daily Bulletin of Weather Reports, Sig
nal Service of the United States Army for
April, 1875. Pp. 185.

Man a Spirit only. By R. L. Farns-
worth. Pp. 48. St. Paul: Pioneer Press
print.

Claims of Capital. By William Brown.
Pp. 36. Montreal : J. Lovell.

Uses of a Topographical Survey of New
York State. By J. T. Gardner. Pp. 14.
New York: American Geographical Soci
ety.

Product of the Action of Potassium on
Ethyl Succinate. By I. Remsen. Pp. 10.
From American Journal of Science.

Hospital and Private Treatment of Oph
thalmia Neonatorum. By S. C. Ayres, M. D.
Pp. 8. From Lancet and Observer.

Climate in its Sanitary Relations to
Medicine. By A. S. Baldwin, M. D. Pp.
14. Jacksonville, Fla. : Semi-Tropical print.

Report on Working- Women s Protec
tive Union (1876). Pp. 16. New York:
W. W. P. Union.

Astronomische Nachrichten. No. 2,062.
Kiel : Konigliche Sternwarte.

Training-School for Nurses. Pp. 16.
Philadelphia : Grant, Faires & Rodgers
print.

Principal Characters of the Dinocerata.
By 0. C. Marsh. Pp. 6. With Plates.
From American Journal of Science.

Some Remains of an Extinct Species
of Wolf. By J. A. Allen. Pp. 5. From
American Journal of Science.

Doctrine of Force, and its Bearing upon
Theism. By G. N. Duzan, M. D. Pp. 39.
Indianapolis : J. G. Doughty print.

Memorial to Congress "on the Currency,
from the New York Board of Trade. Pp.
13.

Report on Chicago Botanical Garden
(1875). Pp. 4.

Report of the Georgia Commissioners of
Agriculture (1876). Pp. 180. Atlanta:
Estill print.

Polytechnic Review. Vol. i., No. 1.
Monthly, $3 per annum. Philadelphia : W.
H. Wahl and Robert Grimshaw, proprietors.

MISCELLANY.

Unhealthiness of New Bouses. The

unhealthiness of new houses is due to the
presence of moisture in their walls. This
moisture may be held either mechanically,
as by capillary attraction in the bricks,
mortar, and plaster ; or chemically, in the
hydrate of lime. Moisture held mechani
cally is removable by air and warmth ;
chemically-held moisture is removed grad
ually by the action of carbonic acid con
tained in the air. A writer in the English
Mechanic suggests the use of a dew-point
thermometer as a means of determining
whether a house is sufficiently free from
moisture to be inhabitable. If we take a
reading of this in the open air, in the shade,
and protected from wind, we have the actual

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

atmospheric conditions. If we now trans
fer the instrument to a room in the house
which has been closed for a few hours and
without artificial heating, we find the in
ternal conditions. If the dry thermometer
is lowered, we may conclude that the walls
are cold, and so absorb heat. If the differ
ence between the wet and dry bulbs is
lessened, we know the evaporation condi
tions are lessened ; that is, that the internal
atmosphere is overcharged with moisture.
The two together will prove that the walls
are damp, and that the house is disadvan
tageous to health.

New Tanning Process. An exhibition
was recently given at Havre, France, of
Montoison s process of tanning. A variety
of skins were experimented on, from the
fresh skin of a calf, to the old skins of sheep
and goats burnt and hardened by a tropi
cal sun ; more time of course was required
to unhaiv the latter than the former. The
skins were first soaked in hot water, then
they received two coats of a pasty liquid on
the inside, and were piled up, inside to inside,
to undergo the action of the composition.
After the skins had been soaked for a short
time, the wool and hair came from them ab
solutely intact. The manner in which the
wool came away from the skin by a touch
of the hand created considerable astonish
ment in the minds of those who witnessed
the experiments. In a few seconds the
skins were dipped in two special baths to
neutralize the unhairing composition, and
the afternoon was devoted to tanning ex
periments, which proved the invention to be
a complete success. Experienced tanners,
who were present, declared the leather pro
duced to be, to all appearance, fully equal to
that produced by the tedious methods in
common use.

The Economy of Vegetarianism. A writ
er in the Quarterly Journal of Science makes
a trenchant criticism of the arguments usu
ally employed by vegetarians in support of
their-system of diet. The author considers
the question from the economic, the moral,
and the hygienic points of view, but we have
not space to give more than an epitome of his
remarks on the first of these topics. One
hundred acres of good land, say the vegeta

rians, will support a greater amount of hu
man life if planted with wheat, potatoes, or
other crops directly consumed by man, than
if laid out in pasture or set with vegetables
intended for the food of cattle. This is
true, but all land is not good ; in every
country there is abundance of land that is
unfit for tillage, and which, nevertheless,
yields excellent pasture. Under a vegeta
rian regime such lands would cease to sup
ply the food-market. So too the produce of
the forest and moor game would cease.
More serious still, the waters would no lon
ger contribute their share. It might be said
that poor lands could still be used for past,
ure, and the produce of flocks and herds
(wool, butter, cheese, milk) utilized. But if
the grazer cannot sell the meat, it would
be unprofitable to keep animals, unless he
could get, for the products above named,
prices a hundredfold higher than he gets
now. Besides, the use of milk, butter, and
cheese, is inconsistent with vegetarian prin
ciples. In a strictly vegetarian country, tal
low, hides, and hair, could scarcely be pro
cured. Again, the refuse of the fisheries is
rising into importance as a manure fully
equal to Peruvian guano. But, if fish might
no longer be captured, the supply of this
fertilizer would be cut off, unless indeed the
destruction of animal life for purposes other
than food received an exceptional sanction.
Even then the cost of the raw material
would be greatly enhanced.

Ancient American Civilization. In the

" Congress of Americanists," held last July
at Nancy, France, a very learned paper was
read by Prof. Foucaux, of the College de
France, in favor of the theory that the an
cient civilization of America is the work of
Buddhist missionaries. The theory was
hotly attacked by several of the distin
guished men present, among them by Fried-
rich von Hellwald. The latter compared
the story of Huei-shen to that of the sea-
serpent. Dr. Hellwald is of the opinion
that this theory received its death-blow at
the Congress. Two other theories were
also very badly damaged, namely, those of a
lost continent of Atlantis and of Phoenician
settlements in America. M. Leonde Rosny
delivered a masterly address on the Maya
hieroglyphics. The Maya was the sacred

MISCELLANY.

119

language of the ancient inhabitants of Yu
catan, and the monuments of that country
bear a number of inscriptions in a hiero
glyph which has been only very partially de
ciphered as yet. M. de Rosny first critically
analyzed the attempts at decipherment made
by his predecessors, the Abbe Brasseur de
Bourbourg and H. de Charencey. The
Bishop Diego de Landa first discovered a
clew to the meaning of these hieroglyphs ;
he made out the meaning of seventy-one
signs, and the number has been increased to
one hundred and thirty-two by De Rosny.
The latter has also determined the order in
which these signs should be read. As a
rule, they run from left to right, but in ex
ceptional cases from right to left. M. Os
car Comettant, of Paris, a musician and
composer, attended the Congress expressly
for the purpose of reading a deeply inter
esting paper on " Music in America before
its Discovery by Columbus." The author
described the Peruvian flute, and, to give
the audience an idea of ancient Indian
music, had a few simple native Peruvian
melodies performed by members of the gar
rison baud. The effect was very pleasing.
A comparison of this music with that of
China shows that the two are in no respect
alike. Here was a new and unexpected ar
gument against the truth of the Huei-shen
story. The next meeting of the " Congress
of Americanists" will be held in 1877, in the
city of Luxembourg.

Climatology of ffew Zealand. The two

large islands of the New Zealand group,
North and South Island, are both very moun
tainous. In the North Island the mountains
occupy about one-tenth of the surface, and
in the South nearly four-fifths. The rivers
are very numerous, and of large size in pro
portion to the area of the country ; but
few of them, however, are navigable. The
greatest height of the main range in North
Island is 6,000 feet ; but in the South Isl
and, there are peaks from 10,000 to 14,000
feet in height. The changes of weather and
temperature in New Zealand are very sud
den; calms and gales, rain and sunshine,
heat and cold, alternate so frequently and
suddenly as to defy previous calculation, so
that there is no uniformly dry or wet sea-
eon in the year. But, though these changes

are sudden and frequent, they are confined
within very narrow limits, the extremes of
daily temperature varying throughout the
year by an average of 20 only, while in
Europe, at Rome, and other places of cor
responding latitude with New Zealand, the
same variation is 30 or more. In respect
to temperature, New Zealand may be com
pared either with England or Italy ; but
London is 7 colder than the North, and 4 U
colder than the South Island, and is less
moist. Strong winds are prevalent, and
particularly in the straits. Rain falls fre
quently, but seldom in such excessive quan
tity, or for such long periods, as in Austra
lia. The rainfall, in 1871, was 54| inches;
that of New York City in 1873 was 42^

Science-Teaching for the Young. The

master of a school for young boys gives an
account in Nature of his method of teach
ing his young pupils science. For the pur
poses of scientific instruction, the pupils are
divided into three classes, the lowest of
which contains about twenty boys, whose
average age is nine years. Class II. is
composed of ten boys, of an average age of
twelve years, while the first class contains
twelve boys, of an average age of twelve
and a half years. The time weekly de
voted to science-instruction is, for Class
III., two lessons in botany of three-quarters
of an hour each, and one hour s lesson in
physical geography. The pupils are taught
to distinguish the parts of a flower, and, by
the aid of a chart, to discover the order to
which any plant belongs. The second class
gives two and a half hours per week to bot
any. The standard of knowledge aimed at
is such as is contained in Prof. Oliver s
books, and the boys are expected to be abl*
to find out any given plant in Bentham s
" British Flora." The boys in the first class
study chemistry, and spend one afternoon
of an hour and a half at practical work in
the laboratory. Another afternoon is em
ployed in listening to a lecture founded upon
a chapter in a text-book of chemistry. The
boys, after the lecture, study up its subject-
matter in the text-book, so as to be able to
answer questions on it at the beginning of
the next lesson. The standard aimed at is
the power to discover a simple acid and base,
and an acquaintance with the text-book.

120

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

"These sciences," continues the author,
" were chosen less as subjects of study than
as instruments of training in order to culti
vate the powers of observation, and to en
courage a habit of inductive reasoning. If
the teaching of science in its early stages is
thus regarded more as a means than as an
end, there is no child, who has begun to
learn anything at all, who may not be taught
some branch of it with advantage." The
attempt was at first made to teach the chil
dren science without making them learn
anything by heart. The result was, that
they did not know what to do with the
facts they had collected, and lost them as
fast as they picked them up. "But, since
the botany boys have been set to learn the
chart by heart, and since the chemistry
boys have been using a text-book, the
progress made has been far more satis
factory. A young child s reasoning powers
are so feeble that he needs to be constantly
guided in the use of them, and, before being
set to observe, he requires to be furnished
with a cadre in which to arrange his bat
talions of facts."

Fishing for Glass-Sponges. The mode
of fishing for the Euplectella, or "Venus s
Flower- basket," on the coast of Zebu, one
of the Philippines, is described as follows
in the journal of a member of the Chal
lenger Expedition : " The natives use an in
geniously-contrived instrument in taking
the sponges. Two long strips of bamboo
meet at an angle of 45, and are fixed in
that position by an elaborate system of
stays of bamboo, which are attached to a
piece of wood running back from the angle,
between the two arms or wings of the ma
chine. The piece of wood is weighted with
stones, and a line is attached to it, so that
the machine is pulled along on the bottom,
with the angle in advance, and the two
wings sloping backward. The outer edge
of each of the bamboo rods is armed with
between thirty and forty large fish-hooks,
with their barbs set forward. The regederas,
as the Spaniards call the euplectellas, are
found at a depth of about a hundred fath
oms. The Indian lets down the machine
with a strong fine line of Manila hemp, and
pulls it slowly over the ground. Every now
and then he feels a slight tug, and at the

end of an hour or so he pulls it in, with
usually from five to ten regederas on the
hooks. Euplectella has a very different ap
pearance, under these circumstances, from
the cones of glassy network so well known
under that name. Its silver beard is clogged
with the dark-gray mud in which it lives
buried to about one-third of its height, and
the network of the remainder of the tube is
covered with a pall of yellowish sarcode.

Congress of German Anthropologists.

The Congress of Anthropologists held its
sessions for 1875 in Munich, in the early
part of August. The president, Prof. Vir-
chow, reviewed the history of the Ger
man Anthropological Society since its ori
gin, sixteen years ago. Prof. Zittel called
the attention of the delegates to the col
lection of prehistoric relics on exhibition
in one of the halls of the Odeon. The col
lection represented the ancient Kelto-Ger-
manic period of Bavarian history, and was
the result of the joint efforts of various his
torical societies, aided by the Government
and by private collectors. " Of Tertiary
man," said Prof. Zittel, 4i no trace is found
in Bavaria, any more than in the rest
of Germany, nor have we any human me
morials from the period of the preglacial
Diluvium. Even the Cavern and the Stone
age yield but few human remains. Bury-
ing-places furnish both dolichocephalous
and brachycephalous crania the latter be
longing to Southern Bavaria, the former to
the Allemans and Franks. We must not
deny to the Bavarian of to-day a Germanic
origin on account of his brachycephaly, for
even the Frisians are brachycephalic also.
In manners and customs Bavaria is as Ger
man as any other portion of Germany, and
it is not to be dropped out of the German
organism. Its post is that of guardian of
the southern marches."

The Weddas of Ceylon. A paper by
Mr. B. F. Hartshorne, read at the British
Association, gives some interesting particu
lars of the social condition and habits of
the Weddas of Ceylon. The Weddas de
pend for their subsistence on bows and ar
rows, and pass their lives in the vast forests
of the country without any habitation, and
without even the rudest attempt at culti-

MISCELLANY.

121

vating the soil. No flint or stone imple
ments are to be found among them, and
they produce a flame by rubbing two sticks
together. Their intellectual capacity is so
small, that they are unable to count or to
discriminate colors. They are almost des
titute of the religious sentiment, as well as
of an appreciation of personal cleanliness,
for they habitually eschew ablutions. They
abhor theft and lying. But, perhaps the
most remarkable trait in the character of
the Weddas is the apparent absence of a
faculty which is held to be peculiar to the
human race that of laughter. It is stated
that they regard the expression of mirth by
others with surprise and disgust, and that
no Wedda has ever been known to laugh.

Lettuce as Food for Silkworms. A writ
er in Das Ausland states that, in the sum
mer of 1873, a few silkworms, belonging to
his children, were fed with lettuce for some
time after being hatched, mulberry-leaves
not being obtainable. The caterpillars ate
the lettuce ravenously, but, when they were
about half-grown, a supply of mulberry-
leaves was procured, and this constituted
their food for the rest of the season. The
moths in due time spun their cocoons as
usual, and the next spring the author him
self determined to feed the silkworms only
on lettuce. The young brood devoured the
lettuce in great quantities, care being taken
to leave no moisture on the surface of the
leaves. The insects grew and went through
their metamorphoses in the usual manner ;
a few only died, and they from carelessness
in not wiping the leaves dry. The cocoons
were of good quality, and the author intend
ed to exhibit some of them at the Royal
Agricultural Hall in Stuttgart Time alone
can determine whether silkworms will de
generate on being fed on lettuce. How
ever this may be, the subject is one that is
worthy of investigation.

Dredging for Amber. According to an
official report from Memel, Germany, an es
tablishment has been organized for obtain
ing amber by dredging in the Kurische Haff,
near the village of Schwarzorts, situated
about twelve miles south of Memel. It has
been known for many years that amber ex
isted in the soil of this place, from the fact

that the dredger employed by the Govern
ment for clearing away the shallow spots
near Schwarzorts, which impeded naviga
tion, brought up pieces of amber, which
were duly appropriated by the workmen,
and at the time no particular attention was
paid to the matter. Some time afterward,
however, some speculators associated, and
made an offer to the Government not only
to do the dredging wherever required at
their own expense, but to pay a daily rent,
provided the amber which they might find
should become their property. This pro
posal was accepted, and the rent fixed at 15
thalers, and later at 25 thalers, for each
working day. The dredging was begun
with four machines worked by men, and
one worked by horses. Judging from the
extended business transactions in this mat
ter, its results must have been extremely
profitable. At present, the work is carried
on with eighteen steam-dredges and two
tug-boats, the whole managed by about
1,000 laborers.

Temperature of Germination. It is gen
erally supposed that the seeds of plants do
not germinate at a temperature lower than
4 or 5 Cent. (40 Fahr.), but certain experi
ments made by Uloth, and published in the
German botanical magazine, Flora, would
seem to show that this opinion is erroneous.
In Dr. Uloth s experiments the seeds of
Acer platanoides and of Triticum germi
nated at a temperature not exceeding zero
C. (32 Fahr.). In the winters of 187l- 72
and 1872- 73, he made the following experi
ments : He took two boxes and in each had
a certain depth of water frozen into a block
of ice. In these blocks he made furrows four
millimetres deep, in which he sowed seeds
of various plants, which were the same for
the two boxes. He now covered the boxes
with a plate of ice, and stored them away
in two separate ice-houses. He then partly
filled two boxes with soil, in which he sowed
the same kinds of seeds. These boxes he
also covered with plates of ice, and stored
them in the same ice-houses with the others.
Care was taken to have a good thickness of
ice (over four feet) surrounding the boxes on
every side, so as to provide against any
elevation of the temperature. The boxea
were placed in the ice-houses in January,

122

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

1872, at a temperature of 8 C., and they
were taken out on May 15th. In 1873, they
Were placed in the ice-houses in February,
the temperature being 5 C., examined on
March 25th, and removed on May 15th. The
kinds of seed sown were twenty-five in num
ber. On March 25th, four had germinated,
viz., Lepidium ruderale, L. safivum, Sinapis
alba and Brassica napus, all Cruciferae. On
May 15th, besides the foregoing, the follow
ing seeds had germinated: Arabis alpina,
jflthionema saxatile, Brassica nigra, Petro-
selinum sativum, Cannabis saliva, Ervum
lens, Pisum sativum, Avena sativa, Secale
cereale, Hordeum vulgare, Triticum vulgare.
Hence it appears that the seed of Cru-
ci ferae and of Gramineae freely germinate at
the temperature of zero C. Of the seeds
named above, about an equal number ger
minated in ice and in earth. The radicles
had penetrated the blocks of ice. Those
seeds which had not germinated lay rotten
on the surface of the ice or of the soil.

Transformation of Species. An instance
of transformation of species is recorded as
follows in the Zeitschrift fur Wissensihaft-
liche Zoologie. There are some salt-marshes
near Odessa, which in 1871 contained num
bers of Artemia salina, a minute crusta
cean, also known as the brine-worm. At
that time, owing to the rupture of a dike,
the quantity of salt in the pond was very
small, the water marking 8 in the Baume"
areometer. The dikes were repaired, and
concentration then proceeded rapidly until,
in September, 1875, the water marked 25.
As the salt was increased the Artemia sa
lina was modified from generation to gen
eration, so that, by the end of 1874, several
individuals had no caudal lobes (see figure
of A. salina in No. 20 of the MONTHLY,
December, 1873), and they presented all
the specific characters of Artemia Mulhau-
seni. The changes observed from year to
year are minutely described. They appeared
especially in the caudal part, and were ac
companied by diminution of size. These
observations were confirmed by experi
ments made on Artemia kept in water of
various degrees of softness. In the inverse
experiment from a greater to a less soft
ness, A. Mulhauseni returned to the form
of A, salina. As the saltness increased or

decreased, there was an increase of dimi-
nution of the surfaces of the bronchiae. The
writer of the article further gives reasons
for thinking that the genus Artemia is
only a degraded form of Bronchipus, de
graded through the influence of the me
dium.

Clothing the lonng. " Hygiene ol
Dress " is the subject of a series of articles in
the Sanitary Record. The author s remarks
concerning the proper clothing of infants
and children are judicious. "Warmth,"
he says, "is the first requisite for infants,
who are very susceptible to cold. The
clothing of the infant should be both light
and warm. Its purpose is to protect the
infant from chills, or rather to prevent too
great a loss of heat. It should be ample
enough to prevent any pressure on the
blood-vessels, which would impede the cir
culation and hinder the free development
of the members. It should be especially
easy over the chest, in order to insure the
free play of the lungs and heart, and should
be equally ample around the stomach and
the intestines, in order not to interfere
with digestion. The sleeves should be
wide, in order that the garment may be
easily put on, and to favor the circulation
of the blood in the arteries and veins of the
arms and legs. The robe should be long
enough to preserve the infant from cold,
but not so long as to be a burden. The
head should not be covered. A cap often
tends to favor congestions ; sometimes, too,
it compresses the head, and certain cere
bral affections have been, apparently with
good reason, referred to this cause alone.

An Automatic Light-Registering Machine.

Mr. Crookes has made an ingenious appli
cation of his radiometer to meteorological
purposes. In our present meteorological rec
ords we note variations in heat, rainfall, at
mospheric pressure, etc., but light, the most
important influence, has been neglected hith
erto, for the want of a machine for automati
cally registering its variations. Mr. Crookes
has arranged the arms of his radiometer so
that they carry round a small magnet sus
pended beneath them. The amount of light
falling on the pith-balls at the extremities of
the radiometer arms determines the rate

MISCELLANY.

123

of rotation. Near the magnet, attached
to the rotating arms, is suspended another
magnet, which oscillates as the attached
magnet presents alternately its north and
south poles. This oscillation makes and
breaks an electric circuit, which, by a wire
of any required length, is connected with
a recording Morse machine moved by
clockwork. Each revolution of the rotat
ing pith-balls is thus recorded by a punch
of the Morse on a strip of paper, and so a
register is kept of the amount of light fall
ing at any place.

A Mountain of Granite. The "Stone
Mountain " of De Kalb County, Georgia, is
described in the American Journal of Sci
ence by Mr. E. Hillyer. It is a solid, bald
mass of granite, from 1,500 to 2,000 feet
in height. The northeast side is perpen
dicular, unbroken, and smooth ; the north
west side is inclined so as to be of easy
ascent ; while the west and southwest are
so steep as to be barely accessible. On the
inclined surface the rock breaks off in lay
ers, a few inches to several feet thick,
which structure may be due to shrinking in
cooling, and to atmospheric influences, to
gether with solar heat. The rock is per
fectly homogeneous, with no trace of strati
fication a pure whitish granite. There is
no doubt that below the surface lamination
a piece could be quarried out a quarter of
a mile in length, if man could command
the means. This granite exists over a wide
region of country, and is much used for
building-purposes.

Rattlesnakes and their Bites. In the

course of some notes on the rattlesnake,
published in Forest and Stream, Dr. J. W.
Bailey, of Albany, asserts that this serpent
is the most sluggish of the snake family.
It never strikes unless in self-defense, ex
cepting just before and after its winter
sleep. Of course, the rattlesnake s idea of
self-defense is rather broad. Thus, if a
person step upon it by the purest accident
the snake will make no allowance, but
strikes the intruder on the spot. To strike,
however, it must be in close coil, with its
head erect. It is capable of springing only
a little more than half its length, unless it
be lying on an inclined plane; then, by

supporting itself entirely on its tail, it can
spring much farther. Hogs attack the rat
tlesnake with impunity, the effect of the
poison being probably neutralized by a thick
layer of adipose tissue. Dr. Bailey is able
to contradict, from his own experience, the
statement that serpents do not move about
at night ; he has often, when riding by moon
light seen them gliding through the grass.
The author says that, when the venom of a
serpent has entered the circulation, all rem
edies are unavailing. He has seen a freshly-
killed chicken split open and applied to the
wound, with good results. In such cases
the flesh of the chicken turns green and pu
trid where it comes in contact with the vi
rus. The most certain remedy, however, is
whiskey or brandy used in large quantities
say a quart immediately. Intoxication
is not exhibited until the poison has been
counteracted. Sweet-oil, taken in doses of
several ounces, is also effectual. Sports
men camping in Texas are accustomed, af
ter pitching their tent, to stretch around it
a hair lariat. The short hairs irritate the
snake s belly as he attempts to cross the
lariat, and he retreats.

Cause of Monstrosities. In the course
of a discussion of the subject of " monstros
ities," in the Detroit Academy of Medicine,
Prof. Armor, of the Long Island Medical
College, who was present, presented some
ingenious views, which may be briefly stated
as follows : Monstrosity is commonly re
ferred to " arrest of development " or to
" abnormal development." But what is the
true cause ? Prof. Armor answers : 1.
Something deficient or abnormal in the gen
erative matter from which the foetus is de
veloped. This generative matter he looked
upon as representative ; there is not a tis
sue, structure, or form, that is not repre
sented in it, so that deviation from the
normal type may be impressed at the very
instant of conception. The next point was
the faithful transmission of acquired struct
ural peculiarities, when once fully estab
lished. Finally, it was suggested that the
discussion of this subject bears directly
upon the great question of evolution : the
strongest and fittest survive ; weak parts
of the organism atrophy and die they
cease to be seminally represented. 2. The

12 4

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

next cause of monstrosities mentioned was
such as operated directly on the foetus
in utero. The generative matter may be
perfect and fully representative, but certain
morbid influences may act directly on the
fo3tus. Dr. Armor instanced the experi
ments made in producing malformations by
submitting hens eggs to various mechani
cal influences during incubation. In con
clusion, he held that all causes of malforma
tion would come under one of two heads :
They are either generative or mechanical
sometimes one operating, sometimes the
other, sometimes both.

Habitat of the Crocodile. Till recently
the two American species of crocodile, de
scribed by Cuvier, have been supposed to
be confined to South America and the West
Indies. In 1870 Prof. Wyman identified a
skull from Florida as belonging to Cuvier s
species, Crocodilus acutus. Mr. William T.
Hornaday now describes in the American
Naturalist two specimens male and female
of the Crocodilus acutus which he cap
tured last year in the vicinity of Biscayne
Bay, on the southeast coast of Florida.
The male waa fourteen feet in length, and
his girth at a point midway between fore
and hind legs was five feet two inches. His
teeth were large and blunt ; his head rugose
and knotty, with armor-plates very large
and rough. On dissection it was found
that during life he had sustained serious
bodily injuries, probably in battle. Three
of his teeth were shattered ; the tibia and
fibula of the right hind-leg had been broken
in the middle and again united, also one of
the metatarsal bones of the same limb ;
the tail had been docked, and two of the
vertebrae had grown together solidly.

The female measured ten feet eight inch
es. Her head was regular in outline,
comparatively smooth, with white, regular,
and sharp plates, even in surface and con
tour, and colors very marked. The entire
under-surface of both specimens was pale-
yellow, shading gradually darker up the
sides with fine irregular streaks and spots
of black. The general appearance of the
female was decidedly yellowish, while the
back and tail of the male showed an almost
entire absence of yellow, the prevailing
color being a leaden, lustreless black.

While in Florida the author saw the skulls
or other remains of three other crocodiles.
He observes that all the specimens were
taken in water that is brackish about half
the time.

Effects of Strain on the Magnetism of
Soft Iron. The following account of exper
iments made by Sir William Thomson, with
a view to ascertain the effects of stress up
on the magnetism of soft iron, we take from
the Telegraphic Journal. Wires of steel
and of soft iron, about twenty feet long,
were suspended from the roof of the physi
cal laboratory of Glasgow University. An
electro-magnetic helix was placed around a
few inches of each of the wires, so that the
latter could be magnetized when an electric
current was passed through the former, the
induced current thus produced in a second
helix outside the first being indicated by a
second galvanometer. With steel wire, the
magnetism diminished when weights were
attached to the wire, and increased when
they were taken off; but with " special "
soft-iron wire (wire almost as soft as lead),
the magnetism was increased when weights
were put on, and diminished when they
were taken off. Afterward he discarded
the electrical apparatus ; and, by suspend
ing a piece of soft wire near the magnet
ometer, consisting of a needle a small frac
tion of a grain in weight, with a reflecting
mirror attached, the wire was magnetized
inductively, simply by the magnetism of the
earth, and changes in its magnetism were
made by applying weights and strains, the
changes being then indicated by the mag
netometer.

The Origin of Astronomy. Like that
of many other sciences and arts, the origin
of astronomy has been ascribed to various
nations of antiquity, and it is very doubtful
if any one of these can lay exclusive claim
to the credit of having been its founder.
The succession of day and night and of the
seasons, the phases of the moon, and the
motions of the heavenly bodies, must have
enlisted the attention of man from the ear
liest times and in every clime. The result
would naturally be a more or less perfect
system of astronomy. Some nations, no
doubt, from one cause or another, culti-

MISCELLANY.

125

vated this science with more success than
others, and among these the Assyrians,
Babylonians, or Chaldeans, are preeminent.
The records of their observations were
adopted by the Greeks, and through the
latter were transmitted to the Romans.
Thus our modern astronomy is really trace
able back to the plains of Babylonia. The
question arises, Of what race were the
founders of Chaldean astronomy ? This
subject is considered by A. H. Sayce, who,
in a communication to Nature, says that
they were not Semites, but a people who
are now generally termed Accadians, and
who spoke an agglutinative language.
" They had come from the mountains of
Elam or Susiana, on the east, bringing with
them the rudiments of writing and civiliza
tion. They found a cognate race already
settled in Chaldea, and in conjunction with
the latter they built the great cities of
Babylonia, whose ruins still attest their
power and antiquity. Somewhere between
3000 and 4000 B. c., the Semites entered
the country from the east, and gradually
contrived to conquer the whole of it. It is
probable the conquest was completed about
2000 B. c. At all events Accadian became
a dead language some two or three centu
ries later, but, as the Semitic invaders owed
almost all the civilization they possessed to
their more polished predecessors, it re
mained the language of literature, like Latin
in the middle ages, down to the last days
of the Assyrian Empire."

Sounds produced by Wowing into a
Flame. Some noteworthy observations
have been made by Decharme on the pro
duction of sounds by blowing into a flame
through a tube. He is of opinion that the
air acts rather chemically than mechani
cally. The sounds, according to him, result
from small explosions by the combination
of the oxygen of the air with the hydrogen
or carbon of the flame, in imperfect com
bustion. For the sound to occur, the pres
ence of air, or of an inert gas mixed with
oxygen, seems necessary. In one of M.
Decharrae s experiments the white flame
from a Bunsen burner, with the lateral
apertures closed, gave a very strong sound
when blown into with a tube ; whereas the
blue flame, produced when the apertures

are open, gave a very weak one, or none at
all. Carbonic acid alone, or nitrogen, or
oxygen, or chlorine, blown into a flame of
illuminating gas, gave little or no sound ;
protoxide of nitrogen gave a sound that
was weak, but more acute than that ob
tained from air.

Exploration of Victoria Cave. Dr. Tidde-
man read a report on the exploration of
the Victoria Cave, Settle, during the year
1874-"75. The report assigns to the pre-
glacial or the glacial age the lower deposits
of this cave, which contain early Pleisto
cene animal remains associated with a hu
man fibula. The animal bones were nearly
all mere fragments, though one was perfect ;
they represent bears, oxen, deer, goats or
sheep, elephants, swans, etc. Attention was
called in the report to the great distance of
time which separated that age from our own.
In the cave Roman times were separated
from our own day by deposits sometimes
less than a foot thick, but nowhere by more
than two feet of talus, the chips which time
detached from the cliffs above. The Neo
lithic age, which antiquaries knew was a
considerable time before the Roman occu
pation, is represented in some places at a
depth of four or five feet beneath the Ro
man layer, but at others it runs into it. Then
come nine feet of talus without a record of
any living thing. Judging by the shallow-
ness of the Roman 1 ayer, this must repre
sent an enormous interval of time. Next
come the bowlders, the inscribed records
of the Glacial period. They must repre
sent a long series of climatic changes dur
ing which the ice was waxing and waning,
advancing and moving back over the mouth
of the cave. Then there is a break in the
continuity of the deposits, the bowlders ly
ing on the edges of the older beds, which
shows that time was given for changes to
take place to allow the district to cool down
from a warmth suitable to the hippopota
mus and become a fitting pasture for the
reindeer. It was in that warm period that
the man lived and died whose fibula oceurs
among the bones in the cave.

Methods of preserving Fresh Meat. So

numerous are the processes devised in mod
ern times for the preservation of food, that

126

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

a simple catalogue of them would occupy
several pages of this magazine. In so far
as the preservation of vegetables and of cer
tain fruits is concerned a very fair measure
of success has undoubtedly been achieved ;
but with flesh-meat the case is different.
We propose to describe here a few of the
chief methods adopted for preserving meats,
following for the most part a writer upon
this subject in the Journal of the Society of
Arts. These methods may all be reduced
under the four heads of Desiccation, Re
frigeration, Use of Chemical Antiseptics,
and Application of Heat. Desiccation or
drying has been practised from the earliest
times. Charqui, or jerked beef, is an ex
ample of fairly successful preservation, but
it is immensely inferior to fresh meat. Some
years ago the food committee of the Lon
don Society of Arts reported favorably
upon some specimens of "powdered beef"
from Queensland; but the article has been
unable to win its way to public favor. The
reason of this no doubt is, that animal mat
ter preserved by desiccation loses its flavor
and becomes tough and indigestible, the
fat becomes rancid, and in damp weather
the whole turns mouldy and sour. These
difficulties are to some extent obviated by
mixing absorbent substances with fatty
food, as in "pemmican," where sugar and
spice are mixed with dry powdered meat.
Meat-biscuit is made on a similar principle.
Tellier, of Paris, adopts the following meth
od: He first exhausts the air from a close
vessel containing the meat, then fills it with
carbonic-acid gas, again exhausts and again
fills with the same gas. In this way the air
is almost entirely removed. He then ab
sorbs the carbonic acid by the use of a con
centrated solution of potash, by which a
very near approach to a vacuum is produced.
The meat is removed from the vessel after
three days, and may be kept sound without
further trouble, but it will have lost 20 per
cent, of its weight.

The keeping of meat by refrigeration is
practised on a small scale in every house
hold. The same thing was done on a large
scale at Melbourne in 1872, when a large
quantity of meat was kept for six weeks
perfectly fresh in an ice-chamber. In the
following year an attempt was made to ship
from Australia to England meat kept fresh
by the same method, but the experiment

failed. Better success has attended later
shipments of meat from Canada to London,
and from Texas to New Orleans. The prog
ress made in ice-making machines is such
as to inspire great hopes of success in pre
serving meat by cold.

Among chemical antiseptics common salt
of course holds a place. Many patents have
been taken out for the employment of
sulphur-fumes (sulphurous acid). Bisul
phite of lime is very efficacious for the tem
porary preservation of meat, and has been
practically tested with favorable results.
Our readers need not be reminded of what
is claimed for salicylic acid. Among other
chemical agents employed for this purpose
we may mention acetate of potash and chlo-
ralum.

The expulsion of atmospheric air from
vessels containing meat, by means of heat,
is certainly the most successful method of
preservation yet adopted. Many difficult
processes are in use, but the main principle
expulsion of air by heat is the same in
all. They all, too, agree in this, that they
render the meat comparatively insipid.

NOTES.

THE subject of iterated nesting by birds
being under discussion hi Forest and Stream,
Dr. Charles C. Abbott contributes to that
journal the following list of birds which he
has himself observed nesting twice in sum
mer : 1. Usually breeding twice robin, cat
bird, bluebird, house-wren, yellow warbler,
English sparrow, bay-winged bunting, chip-
ping-sparrow, song-sparrow, orchard ori
ole ; 2. Occasionally breeding twice white-
breasted nuthatch, scarlet tanager, yellow-
bird, chewink, Baltimore oriole, purple gra-
kle.

THE American Metrological Society has,
through its president, memorialized Con-
ress for the preparation of coins, of metri
cal weight and uniform fineness, and for the
passage of laws and conclusion of treaties
whereby such coins shall become legal ten
der, according to their weight.

A CRUCIAL experiment was recently
made at Sunderland, England, on a fire
proof house. One of the rooms was filled
with tar-barrels, wood, and other combusti
ble material, and, when the door was shut,
the mass was set on fire. It simply burnt
tself out, without apparently affecting the
condition of the adjoining rooms or the sta
bility of the house itself. The building ma
terial was a concrete of cement and fibre

NOTES.

127

bound together by strings of iron and wire. A COMMITTEE of the Boston Society of

This becomes a sort of stone-cloth, avail- Civil Engineers has drafted afom of Jed
able for floors and doors, as well as walls tion to be addressed to ConS askin-
and ceilings, so that no wood whatever need for the establishment of the meS systenl

of ^ weights and measures in this country.

be used.

A SMALL pike caught by Dr. Charles C.
Abbott, of Trenton, New Jersey, seemed to
be unusually corpulent, so the fish was dis
sected. ^ It was found to contain a large
mud-minnow; within the minnow was a
pike about two inches long, and within the
pike the remains of another mud-minnow !

THE action of sundry drugs on the liver
has been experimentally studied by Drs.
Rutherford and Vignal, the result going to
show that podophylline, aloes, and colchi-
cura, are powerful hepatic stimulants. The
same property, but in an inferior degree, is
possessed by rhubarb, senna, taraxacum,
and scammony. Croton-oil appears to have
but little action on the liver. In three cases
out of four calomel had no action on the
liver, and in the fourth the secretion of bile
was slightly increased.

THE Lancet publishes a list of British
physicians deceased last year at an advanced
age. There are nineteen names in the list,
and the sum of their ages amounts to 1,617
years, showing an average age of eighty-
five years. The greatest age attained by
any of the deceased was ninety-six years,
and three had reached that term. The low
est was seventy-six years, at which age two
of the deceased ended their career.

THE Monthly Weather Review of the

This system is now in use in all European
countries except England, Norway, Sweden
Russia, and Turkey. It has also been
adopted in Mexico and the various states
of South America.

THE Royal College of Surgeons, of Eng
land, having been advised by eminent coun
sel that the terms of their charter require
them to admit women as candidates for
their diploma, have announced that they
are now ready to admit women to the ex
aminations, on the same conditions as men.

THE repugnance of the Chinese to rail
roads is based upon an article of their reli
gion ancestor-worship. Constructors of
railroads pay no respect to ancient burying-
places, but run their lines right through
them, thus disturbing the repose of the
dead. This disregard of the sacredness of
the last resting-place of the departed griev
ously scandalizes the devout Chinaman.

CYNODRAKON MAJOR is the name pro
posed by Prof. Richard 0\ven for a reptile
having some points of mammalian resem
blance, some fossil bones of which have
been found in the late paleozoic or early
mesozoic formation of South Africa. Prof.
Owen thinks he recognizes in these fossils
some indications of retrogression rather
than progression in descent. A problem

peach and cherry buds swelling at Litch-
field, Michigan, and on the same day roses
in bloom at Green Springs, Alabama.

As mentioned in the Notes of the No
vember number, the Abbe Moigno, of Paris,
has published several papers by Tyndall,
Huxley, Du Bois-Reymond, and others, ac
companying them with refutations of their
authors freethinking arguments. The good
abbe doubtless meant well, but the Roman
"Congregation of the Index" finds in his
book more poison than antidote, and ac
cordingly forbids it to be circulated.

EARTHQUAKE-SHOCKS are stated in the
Monthly Weather Review to have been felt
on December 3d at Carson City, Nevada
(slight); 13th, at Maricopa Wells, Arizopa;
21st, at Santa Barbara, California; 22d, at
Fortress Monroe, Virginia ; also at New
Market, Indiana ; Greensboro, North Caro
lina ; Petersburg, Virginia ; and other points
in Virginia, Maryland, and North Carolina.

Signal-Office records the following phe- j here presented for which, in Owen s opin-
nomena for December, 1875, namely : Dan- i n neither the Lamarckian nor the Dar-
delions in bloom at Brownsville, Pennsyl- wiuian theories offer any answer,
vania, on the 23d ; 24th, pinks and hyacinths

in bloom at Brookhaven, Mississippi; 25th, .. , WE ?? f f\ ican %?*"***

...>. ... . -V that a summer School ot Biology will be held

in the Peabody Museum at Salem, Massachu
setts, beginning July 7th, and continuing
six weeks. Special attention will be given
to marine botany and zoology. Mr. J
Robinson will be instructor in botany, with
C. H. Higbee as assistant. A. S. Packard,
Jr., with the assistance of J. S. Kingslcy
and S. E. Cassino, will give instruction in
zoology. Special instruction in microscopy
by Rev. E. C. Bolles. The number of pu
pils is limited to fifteen.

FURTHER experiments with salicylic acid,
made by Feser and Friedberger, show that
it may bo administered for a long time, in
small doses, to domestic animals, without
injurious effects to digestion, nutrition, or
general health. But, given to a dog in the
proportion of one gramme to five kilo
grammes of the animal s weight, salicylic
acid causes paralysis of the extremities and
disorder of the respiration and circulation.
Death from strong doses of the acid results
from paralysis of the respiration.

128

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

THE Normal (Illinois) "School of Natural
History " will open on July 25th, continu
ing in session till August 25th. The course
of study embraces comparative anatomy of
vertebrates ; comparative anatomy of in
vertebrates ; analytical zoology ; analytical
entomology; botany. In the list of in
structors are the names of B. G. Wilder,
Cyrus Thomas, and J. A. Sewall. Fuller
information given by S. A. Forbes, Normal,
Illinois.

IN the American Journal of Science for
February, Prof. J. D. Dana corrects an
error which for many years has circulated
in geographies, gazetteers, and similar
works. This error consists in representing
the West and East Rocks near New Haven
as being the termination of the Green and
White Mountains respectively. " The fact
is," writes Prof. Dana, " that East Rock is
but a short appendage to the system of
trap-dikes of the Connecticut Yalley, and
West Rock, a southern portion of the same
system. The Green Mountains," he adds,
" consist of metamorphic rocks, and are
not younger than Silurian. But the trap
ridges of the Connecticut Valley belong to
the valley, and are of Jurassic origin."

A STATION for agricultural experiments
has been established at the Wesleyan Uni
versity, Middletown, by the State of Con
necticut. Dr. At water, Professor of Chem
istry in the university is the director, and
Dr. W. C. Tilden, with two assistants, is the
acting chemist. The State appropriation
being insufficient to defray all the expenses
of the station, the proprietors of the Amer
ican Agriculturist have agreed to make up
the deficiency.

THE twin-steamship Castalia, which dur
ing four months of last year daily made
voyages between Dover and Calais, appears
to have given satisfaction in every respect,
save speed. Arrangements have now been
made by the Channel Steamship Company
for the building of a large twin-steamship,
which, uniting all the advantages of the
Castalia with such improvements as experi
ence has suggested, will have a speed of
not less than fourteen knots an hour.

A WONDERFUL case of recovery from a
gunshot-wound was that of the late Com
mander Sanders of the British Navy, who
died last February, at the age of ninety-one
years. In 1803 he was shot in the head,
the bullet passing clear through from ear to
eye. He was kindly cared for by the sur
geon of the French ship which he was at
tempting to " cut out " when he received the
wound. At the end of five years detention
as a prisoner of war, he went back to Eng
land sound and well, with the exception of
the loss of an eye.

THE relative strength of various sub
stances is stated as follows in the Scientific
American: A rod ^ inch in diameter, of
the best steel, will sustain, before breaking,
9,000 Ibs. ; soft steel, 7,000 Ibs. ; iron wire,
6,000 Ibs. ; good iron, 4,000 Ibs. ; inferior
bar-iron, 2,000 Ibs.; cast-iron, 1,000 to
3,000 Ibs. ; copper wire, 3,000 Ibs. ; silver,
2,000 Ibs. ; gold, 2,500 Ibs. ; tin, 300 Ibs. ;
cast-zinc, 160 Ibs. ; cast-lead, 50 Ibs. ; milled
lead, 200 Ibs. ; box or locust wood, 1,200
Ibs. ; toughest ash, 1,000 Ibs. ; elm, 800 Ibs. ;
beech, cedar, white-oak, pitch-pine, 600
Ibs. ; chestnut and maple, 650 Ibs. ; poplar,
400 Ibs.

A NEW variety of bronze, containing
manganese, and known as " manganese
bronze," has lately been introduced in Eng
land. It is said to be very valuable for all
kinds of small work wherein gun-metal is
now used, and it is capable of being forged
like iron.

DURING a visitation of extreme cold
weather in the vicinity of Carson River, the
quicksilver pump in the Eureka mill ceased
to perform its proper functions ; the ma
chinery of the pump continued to work, but
no quicksilver was raised. On examination,
the mercury in the tank was found to be
frozen solid.

THE British Geological Society has this
year awarded to Prof. T. H. Huxley its
Wollaston Medal. Prof. Huxley has also
been elected a Corresponding Member of
the Danish Academy of Sciences. The
Royal Academy of Rome has conferred a
similar honor upon Mr. Herbert Spencer,
having elected him a Corresponding Fellow.

PROF. D. S. JORDAN, of Indianapolis, will
conduct a summer School of Science, during
the coming season, in the mountains of East
Tennessee. The members of the school will
collect specimens of the birds, reptiles, fishes,
insects, and plants, of that region.

IN a cave near Thayngen, Switzerland,
Conrad Merck has discovered a quantity of
animal remains, consisting of bones of the
reindeer, cave-lion, mammoth, woolly-haired
rhinoceros, urus, glutton, and other species.
Relics of human habitation have also been
found in great abundance such as flint-
flakes, implements of reindeer-horn, and sev
eral well-executed engravings on bone, horn,
and lignite.

A WRITER in the Gardeners Monthly
states that, when properly cured, the kernel
of the American walnut is white and deli
cious, with a delicate flavor hardly surpassed
by any nut. The nuts should be gathered as
soon as they are ripe, and not allowed to
remain in the hull. They should then be
dried quickly.

BENJAMIN THOMPSON (COUNT RUMFORD).

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY.

JUNE, 1876.
LINGUAL DEVELOPMENT IN BABYHOOD/

BY H. TAINE.

THE following observations were made from day to day and taken
down on the spot. The subject of them was a little girl, whose
mental development took the ordinary course, being neither precocious
nor the reverse.

From the first, probably by reflex action, this child cried inces
santly, kicked, moved all its limbs, and perhaps all its muscles. It
was also doubtless by reflex action that, during the first week, she
moved her fingers, and even grasped for some length of time the finger
of another person. Toward the third month, she began to touch with
her hands, and to stretch out her arms, but did not yet know how to
guide her hand ; she essayed movements of the anterior members, ex
periencing the consequent tactile and muscular sensations nothing
more. In my opinion, out of this enormous multiplicity of movements,
continually repeated, will be separated, by gradual selection, inten
tional movements having an object and attaining it. During the last
fifteen days (age, two and a half months) I have observed one move
ment which is plainly an acquired one : on hearing its grandmother s
voice, the infant turns its head in the direction from which the sound
proceeds.

There is the same spontaneous training for the use of the voice as
for movements. The vocal organ acquires dexterity just as the limbs
do. The child learns how to produce such or such a sound just as it
learns how to turn the head or the eyes, i. e., by constant efforts.

Toward the age of three months and a half, while in the country,
the child was brought into the open air, and laid upon a carpet spread
in the garden. Here, lying on her back or on her face, she for hours
at a time would work with all her limbs, uttering a multitude of differ-

1 Translated from Revue Philosophique by J. Fitzgerald, A. M.
VOL. ix. 9

130 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ent cries and exclamations, consisting exclusively of vowel-sounds ;
this continued several months.

By degrees consonants were added to the vowels, and the excla
mations became more and more articulate. This process resulted in a
sort of prattle of great diversity and completeness, which would be
kept up for a quarter of an hour at a time, and repeated ten times a
day. The sounds (vowel and consonant), which at first were vague
and very hard to discriminate, became more and more like those ut
tered by adults, and the series of simple cries came to be, in some
measure, like a foreign language which we do not understand. The
infant is pleased with its prattle, like a bird ; one can see that she is
happy that she smiles with pleasure yet it is nothing better than
the chirruping of a bird as yet, for the child does not attach any
meaning to the sounds she utters. (Age, twelve months).

She has acquired thus much, in great measure, by her own endeav
ors and unassisted, but she has gained a little by the aid of others and
by imitation. First, of her own accord she produced the sound mm ;
this amused her it was for her a discovery. So, too, she of herself
produced another sound, Ara<mw, emitted from the windpipe in deep
gutturals. These two sounds were repeated several times in succes
sion in the hearing of the child ; she would listen attentively, and
now she repeats them at once on hearing them. The same is to be
said of the sound papapapa, which she at first uttered several times
at random and by herself, and which was then repeated to her a num
ber of times, in order to fix it in her memory. She soon uttered
this sound at will, with easy, unerring execution (though without un
derstanding what it meant), as simple prattle. In short, example and
education have served only to call the child s attention to sounds
which she herself was already attempting to make ; to direct her pref
erence to these, to make them uppermost among the host of similar
sounds. But the initiative all came from herself; and the same is to
be said with respect to gesture. For months she of her own accord
attempted all the movements of the arms, flexion of the hand at the
wrist, bringing the hands together, etc. Then, after instruction and
repeated effort, she learned to clap hands, to hold up the two hands,
as in the gesture of astonishment, etc. Example, instruction, and
education, are only channels in the bed of which the stream flows ;
its source lies higher.

To see that this is the case, one has only to listen to her prattle for
an hour : it is wonderfully flexible. I am satisfied that here every shade
of emotion surprise, joy, vexation, sadness finds expression in va
rieties of tone ; herein she equals or even surpasses the adult. On
comparing her with animals, even those best endowed in this way
such as the dog, parrot, singing-birds I find that, with a less-extended
gamut of sounds, she far surpasses them in the fineness and the abun
dance of her expressive intonations. Delicacy of impressions and deli-

LINGUAL DEVELOPMENT IN BABYHOOD. 131

cacy of expressions are the distinctive characteristics of man as com
pared with animals : here is the origin of language and of general
ideas. Among animals-, man is, what some great and ingenious poet
is among laborers and peasants : in a word, he is cognizant of a mul
titude of shades and tints, even to a whole class of shades, which are
unnoticed by them. This is further seen both in the kind and in the
degree of man s curiosity. It is easily seen that, commencing with the
fifth or sixth month, infants, during the succeeding two years or more,
give all their time to making experiments in natural philosophy. There
is no atiimal, not even the cat or the dog, which makes such continual
study of all bodies within its reach. Every day, the infant of whom
I speak (age twelve months) touches, feels, turns over, lets fall, tastes,
and experiments upon, whatever comes under its hand ; whatever the
object may be a ball, doll, rattle, toy once it is sufficiently known,
the infant leaves it alone : it is no longer a novelty ; there is nothing
more to be learned from it ; it no longer interests the child. This is
simple curiosity ; the child s physical wants, its desire of food, have
nothing to do with the matter. It would seem as though already in
its little brain each group of perceptions tends to complete itself, as
in the brain of a child that possesses language.

She does not yet pronounce any word to which she attaches a
meaning, but there are two or three words to which she attaches a
meaning on hearing them uttered. She daily sees her grandfather,
whose portrait, far less than life-size, but a very good likeness, has
often been shown to her. During the past two months or so (from
the age of ten months), when any one asked her the question, " Where
is grandfather ? " she turns to the portrait and laughs at it. Before
her grandmother s portrait, which is not so good a likeness, she
makes no such gestures, nor does she give any token of knowing
what it is. For a month past (from the age of eleven months), when
ever she is asked, "Where is mamma?" she turns toward her
mother. So, too, with her father. I would not go so far as to affirm
that these three actions transcend animal intelligence. A little dog,
who sits by my side, in like manner understands what is meant when
lie hears the word sugar : he will come from a distance to get his
morsel. In all this there is nothing but association : in the case of
the dog, between a sound and a certain taste-sensation ; in that of
the infant, between a sound and the shape of an individual face ; the
object designated by the sound is not yet a general character.

I believe, however, that now (age, twelve months) a step farther
has been taken ; witness the following circumstance, which for me
is decisive : This winter the child was daily taken to her grandmother s,
and the latter very frequently showed her a copy, in colors, of a
painting by Luini representing a nude Infant Jesus. On showing her
this picture she was told that " this is baby." During the last eight
days, whenever, in some other room, we ask her, Where is baby ? "

1 3 2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

(meaning herself), she turns toward any picture that may be there,
whether it be a painting or an engraving. Hence "baby" signifies,
for her, some general notion, whatever painfings and engravings of
persons or landscapes may possess in common ; i. e., if I am not mis
taken, " baby," in her mind, signifies something variegated in a shin
ing frame. Indeed, it is plain that the objects painted or designed
within the frames are so much Greek to her, while she must be deeply
impressed by the glittering frame and the patches of color, light, and
shade, within its border. Here, then, we have her first general term ;
the meaning she gives it is not ours, but nevertheless it- is evidence
of original work done by the infantile understanding. For, though
we have supplied the word, we have not supplied the meaning.

(Age, fourteen months and three weeks.) The gains of the last
six weeks have been notable : besides the word " baby " she now un
derstands several others, and of these she pronounces five or six, giving
to each a meaning of its own. Mere prattle is succeeded by a begin
ning of intentional and determinate language. The principal words
pronounced by her now are papa, maman, tete (by which she means
nurse) ; oua-oua (her term for dog), koko (hen, cock), dada (horse,
wagon), mia (cat, kitten), kaka, and tern. She acquired earliest the
two words papa and tern : this latter word is very curious, and well
worthy of serious consideration.

For fifteen days she pronounced papa without a purpose, without
a meaning, as simple prattle, and as an easy and amusing exercise of
articulation. Later came association between this name and the im
age or perception ; and then the portrait or the person of her father
brought to her lips the sound papa, and this same word, when pro
nounced by another, awoke in her the memory, the mental image of
her father. Between the two states just noticed there exists an insen
sible transition, so that, at certain times, the first state still persists
after the second state has been attained ; at times she still plays with
a sound, though she understands its sense. This is very easily seen
with respect to some of her later acquisitions, for instance the word
kaka. This word she often repeats without purpose or intent, as
prattle, much to the displeasure of her mother. Again, she fre
quently utters the word purposely, when occasion offers. Further it
is evident that, as in the case of the word " baby," she has extended
the meaning of this term. Thus, for instance, on seeing in a flower
bed the track of moistened earth left by a watering-pot, she repeated
this word again and again with evident -appreciation of its meaning.
.For her it signifies what wets.

She shows great capacity for imitating sounds. She has seen and
listened to fowls, and now repeats their koko far more accurately than
we can do it, with the guttural intonation of the animals themselves.
This is simply a faculty pertaining to the windpipe, but she possesses
another faculty which is far more striking, a faculty that is par excel-

LINGUAL DEVELOPMENT IN BABYHOOD. 133

knee human, namely, the power of noting analogies. This is the
fountain-head of general ideas and of language. We point out to
her on the walls of a room the figures of birds painted red and blue,
a couple of inches in length, saying once only, " Look at the kokos."
She was at once conscious of the resemblance, and for half a day she
took the liveliest pleasure in being carried up and down along the
walls of the room, enthusiastically crying out, at the sight of each
bird, koko ! No dog, no parrot would ever act thus, and, in my opin
ion, we have in this fact the essence of language. Other analogies
she perceives with equal readiness. The first dog she ever saw was a
little black one belonging to the house, who barks frequently ; from
him she framed the word oua-oua. Very soon, with but slight as
sistance from those around her, she applied this word to dogs of all
sizes and of every breed that she saw in the street ; later she applied
it to porcelain figures of dogs a still more noteworthy fact. Nay,
on seeing, day before yesterday, a month-old kid, she called it oua-
oua, thus naming it after the dog, which is the nearest form, rather
than after the horse, which is too big, or the cat, which has a different
gait. 1 Herein we perceive a trait characteristic of man : two very
dissimilar successive perceptions leave a common residue, a distinct
impression, solicitation, impulsion, which results in the invention or
adoption of some mode of expression, either by gesture, cry, articula
tion, or name.

I come now to the word tern, one of the most noteworthy and one
of the first pronounced by her. All the other words are probably
attributives, to use the language of Max Mtiller, 8 and a person has no
difficulty in discovering their meaning; this is probably a demon
strative, and, as we had no term with which to translate it, we took
several weeks to discover its meaning.

At first, and for more than two weeks, the child pronounced this
word tern as she did the word papa, without giving to it any precise
meaning; she thus practised dental articulation followed by a labial,
and the thing afforded her some amusement. By degrees the word
became associated in her mind with a definite intention, and at pres
ent it means for her give, take, see, look. She pronounces it very per
fectly, several times in succession, and with earnestness, her aim be
ing now to get some new object which she sees, again to have some
one take her up, or to attract attention to herself. All these meanings
are comprised in the word tern. It may be that it is a form of the
word tiens, which had often been addressed to her in a somewhat
similar sense. But I am rather inclined to suppose that this word was.
coined by herself to express her principal desires, viz., to be taken in

1 When the Romans first saw the elephant they called it the Lucanian ox. Thus, too,
savage tribes that had never before seen a horse gave that animal the title of big hog.
(See Miiller s " Lectures on Darwin s Philosophy of Language.")

2 Lectures on the " Science of Language," sixth edition, vol. i., p. 809.

134 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the arms, to get the objects she wants, and to attract notice. If such
is the case, then this word is a natural vocal gesture. This view is
rendered more probable by the fact that she possesses other words,
of which more anon, and which are evidently the products, not of
imitation, but of invention.

(Fifteenth to seventeenth month). Great progress made; the child
has learned to walk, and even to run. She is gaining new ideas every
day, and understands a number of phrases, such as these: "Fetch the
ball ; " " Go and doudou to the lady" (i. e., fondle her and let her kiss
you) ; " Come and stand between papa s legs ; " " Go down there ; "
" Come here," etc. She is beginning to distinguish between the tone of
anger and that of pleasure; she quits doing anything forbidden with
severe countenance, or with voice expressive of disapproval ; of her own
accord she frequently shows a desire of being fondled. But she has
learned or invented but few new words recently. Her chief new
words are Pa (Paul), Babert (Gilbert), bebe (baby), beee (nanny-goat),
cola (chocolate), oua-oua (anything good to eat), ham (eating, I want
to eat). There are a number of other words which she understands,
but is unable to pronounce, such as grandfather, grandmother. Her
vocal organs, not being sufficiently practised, do not as yet reproduce
all the sounds she knows, and to which she attaches meanings.

Cola (chocolate) was one of the iirst dainties she ever tasted, and
she prefers it to all others. She gets a lozenge daily during her visits
to her grandmother; she knows the box in which the bonbons are
kept, and keeps pointing toward it until it is opened.

Bebe. We have spoken of the curious meaning she at first gave
to this word ; by degrees, under the influence of education, she has
come nearer to its ordinary sense. Other infants have been shown to
her, and called bebe; she herself has also been called by this name;
now she answers to it. She has been shown the reflection of her ow r n
face in a mirror, and told to look at bebe, and now she goes herself to
the glass, and, on seeing the image, laughs and calls "bebef" Start
ing from this, she gives the name of bebe to miniatures, pictures, and
statuettes. Here again education has produced a result that had not
been anticipated : the general character perceived by the child is not
the one that we could have desired her to perceive. "We have taught
her the sound, and she has invented the meaning.

Ham (eating, I want to eat). Here she originated both the sound
and the sense. This sound she first uttered during her fourteenth
month. For weeks I took it to be mere prattle, but at last I noticed
that it was uttered always, without exception, when food was in sight.
Now she never fails to say ham whenever she is hungry or thirsty.
This again is a natural vocal gesture.

Oua-oua. It was not till three weeks ago (end of the sixteenth
month) that she employed this word in the sense of something good
to eat. For a while we did not understand what it meant, for the

LINGUAL DEVELOPMENT IN BABYHOOD. 135

same sound had long been used by her, but always to signify dog. In
this new meaning the sound has oscillated between va-va and oua-oua.
In all probability the sound here written oua-oua is for her twofold,
in accordance with the two different meanings she attaches to it. But
my ear does not detect this difference. The senses of infants, which
are less obtuse than ours, perceive delicate shades which we do not
distinguish. It is worthy of mention that she strictly applies this
term oua-oua to food and drink; the act of eating or drinking is ex
pressed by am, or ham. Thus, when she hears the dinner-bell, she
says am, not oua-oua / but at table, when seated before some article
of food, she says oua-oua, and much less frequently am.

On the other hand, the word tern (give, take, look), of which I
have already made mention, has during the past two months fallen
into desuetude. She never pronounces that word now, nor can I find
that she has replaced it by any other. Doubtless the reason of this
is, that we did not care to learn it : it answered to none of our ideas,
inasmuch as it coupled three very distinct notions.

On summing up the facts already stated we reach the following
conclusions ; it remains for others to modify them by observing other
infants :

At first the infant cries, and employs its vocal organ in the same
way as its limbs, spontaneously and after the manner of reflex action.
Spontaneously, too, and because it finds pleasure in being active, the
infant later exercises its vocal organs in the same way it exercises its
limbs, gaining the perfect use of them by repeated essays and by a
process of selection. From inarticulate it thus passes to articulate
sounds. The variety of intonations which it acquires evinces in the
child great delicacy of impression and of expression ; hence the fac
ulty of forming general ideas. All we do is to aid it in grasping
these ideas by suggesting our words. To these the infant attaches
ideas of its own, generalizing after its own fashion rather than ours.
Sometimes it invents not only the meaning of a word, but the word
itself. Several vocabularies may succeed to one another in its mind,
new words obliterating old ones ; several different significations may
successively be attached to one word ; several words invented by
itself are natural vocal gestures ; in short, it learns a ready-made
language as a true musician learns counterpoint, or as a true poet
learns prosody : the child is an original genius, which adapts itself to
a form built up bit by bit by a succession of original geniuses. If there
existed no language it would discover one, or find an equivalent.

This series of observations was interrupted, owing to the misfor
tunes of the year 1870. The following notes may serve to show the
mental state of an infant : in many respects this state is that of
primitive peoples in the poetical and mythological period

A water-jet, which this infant saw daily for three months, always
gave her new pleasure. The same is to be said of the flow of a river

136 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

as seen from a bridge. The flashing, running water was plainly for
her an object of extraordinary beauty, and she would keep exclaim
ing, " Water, water " (age, twenty months). A little later (thirty
months) she was profoundly impressed on seeing the moon. She
wanted to look at it every night. When she walked abroad it seemed
to her that the moon also was moving, and this discovery gave her de
light ; as the moon made her appearance in different localities, accord
ing to the hour, being seen at one time in front of the house, and again
in the rear, she would exclaim, " Another moon ! another moon ! "
One night (age, three years) she wanted to know where the moon
was, and, on being told that it had. gone to bed, she asked, " Where,
then, is the moon s nurse ? " All this very closely resembles the emo
tions and conjectures of childlike races ; their profound wonderment
in presence of the great phenomena of Nature ; the influence exerted
upon them by analogy, language, and metaphor, leading them to form
myths of the sun, the moon, etc. Suppose such a state of mind to be
universal at any period, and we can readily foresee what religious
ideas and legends would be the result ; in fact, we have instances of
this process of development in the Vedas, the Edda, and even in
Homer.

If we speak to the child of an object at some little distance, but
which she can represent to herself definitely enough, having seen the
object itself or something like it, her first question always is : " What
does it say ? What does the rabbit say ? What does the bird say ?
What does the horse say ? What does the big tree say ? " Whether
it be an animal or a tree, she always treats the object as a person ;
wants to know what it thinks, what it says. By a spontaneous in
duction, she pictures it as like herself or like us humanizes it. This
same tendency is found among primitive races, and it is all the strong
er the more primitive they are.

It requires long time and many an effort for the infant to attain to
ideas which to us appear simple. When this child s doll had its head
broken she was told that now the doll was dead. One day her grand
mother said to her : " I am old, and shall not remain long with you ;
I shall die." " Your head will be broken, then." This she repeated
several times. Even yet (age, three years and one month), to be dead
means, for her, to have a broken head. Day before yesterday a mag
pie that had been killed by the gardener was tied to the top of a pole
for a scarecrow ; on being told that the pie was dead the child wished
to see it. " What does the pie do ? " she asked. " She does noth
ing ; she will never stir again, she is dead." " Oh ! " For the first
time the idea of final immobility has entered her mind. Now let us
suppose a people to stop at this idea, and to have no other definition
of death than this. For them the Beyond will be the Sheol of the
Hebrews the place where the motionless dead live a vague sort of
life. For her yesterday means in the past, and. to-morrow means in

NATURAL TRUMPET OF THE CRANE. 13?

the future; neither of these terms signifies for her just one day.
Here, again, she gives too large a signification to words. And an in
fant scarcely employs a single word that is not destined later to re
ceive a more restricted meaning. Like primitive peoples, infants
incline to conceive large and general ideas. The child presents, in
the transitional state, mental characters which we find in the fixed
state in primitive civilizations, just as the human embryo presents in
the transitional state physical characters which are found in the fixed
state in certain lower classes of animals.

NATURAL TKUMPET OF THE CRANE.

BY FRANK BUCKLAND.

SPORTSMEN and naturalists, both at home and abroad, would do
well to collect not only the skins of birds, but also to search
for any peculiarity which may happen to occur in their internal
structure, especially the bones and the larynx.

Some weeks since, when calling upon my friend Mr. Jamrach, the
animal-dealer, I observed in the back-yard, on the dust-heap, a num
ber of dead birds. Among them was the body of a very large crane.
Mr. Jamrach allowed me to take this home, and I made several prep
arations of it. We now figure the very remarkable trachea, or wind
pipe, of this bird. In an ordinary bird, such as a chicken, when cut
ting open the skin of the throat, it will be found that the trachea forms
a continuous tube, going in a direct line from the mouth to the lungs,
where it bifurcates. In the crane this is not the case. Instead of
passing between the two bones ordinarily known as the merry-thought,
it becomes convoluted in a very remarkable manner. If this convolu
tion had been placed immediately under the skin, first of all it would
have been cumbersome to the bird; and, secondly, there would have
been a great likelihood of ifrs becoming injured. The breastbone,
therefore, has been hollowed out in the middle in such a manner as to
keep the trachea packed up in a beautiful box of bone. Inside this
box of bone there are about thirteen inches of the trachea. The
trachea enters this bony box at its lowest margin ; it then runs along
the bottom and ascends to the top ; then takes a very sharp turn, and
again descending to the bottom of the box joins the lungs in the usual
way. In life this trachea is not fixed in the box, but is capable of ex
tension and prolongation ; in fact, is almost as elastic as India-rubber.

The diagram will explain this.

The curious cartilaginous-like material reminding us of mosaic
work O f w hi cn the trachea is composed, differs much in pattern in its
various portions, the rings being single near the mouth, while a few

1 3 8

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

inches farther they appear to be double. A model of them at this part
of the tube can be obtained by locking the fingers of both hands one
into the other. Just as the trachea leaves the bony box it is consider
ably enlarged.

T is the tongue, attached to the bifurcated hyoid bone; LA is the larynx; TE is the trachea
immediately before it buries itself in the peculiar hollow box of bone, A. In this box, as
already described, it becomes convoluted ; then, leaving the box, it enters the cavity of the
chest, and joins the lungs at L.

Of course, the use of this curious structure is to produce those
wonderful sounds which are peculiar to the crane. In fact, it is a
portion of a cornet-d-piston or trombone, and is, no doubt, worked by
some very delicate muscles. I have never had the pleasure of seeing
cranes fly in the air, but I am told that the noise they make is very
wonderful. We read: "Cranes range, according to the season, from
the north of Europe to the south of Asia, and north of Africa, and in
the latter country they are said to extend their migrations as far as
the Cape of Good Hope. On these excursions they fly high in the air,
though they experience some difficulty in getting on the wing from
the ground. Before taking their spring they run some paces, raise
themselves a little at first, and then unfold a powerful and rapid wing.
In the air they form very nearly an isosceles triangle, possibly for the
purpose of cutting the element with greater facility. When attacked

NATURAL TRUMPET OF THE CRANE. 139

by an eagle, or the wind is likely to break their order, they close in
circles. Their passage frequently takes place during the night, which
is known by their sonorous voice, which announces it ; and the head
of the troop often utters, to indicate the route he is taking, a cry of
appeal to which all his followers answer. Their voices, even on these
nocturnal voyages, are exceedingly loud probably owing to the
length of the windpipe and the convolution near its bronchial ex
tremity. When they cry during the day they are generally understood
to forebode rain, as is the case with the cries of many other birds
which feed partially on those worms which the approaching humidity
brings to the surface not only when the rain actually falls, but when,
from the changed state of the air, the evaporation is much diminished.
When they are peculiarly noisy and tumultuous, and fly near the
ground, occasionally alighting, it is considered as a pretty certain in
dication of a tempest. On the other hand, when they rise high, and fly
onward in regular order, it is regarded as a sign of fine weather."

That great observer, Virgil, has used the simile of cranes in flight
in a grand passage in the tenth "JEneid," to give an idea of the Greeks
and Trojans charging each other in the battle-field :

" . . . . Clamorem ad sidera tollunt
Dardanidse e muris : spes addita suscitat iras :
Tela maim jaciunt. Quales sub nubibus atris
Stryraoniss dant signa grues atque sethera tranant
Cum sonitu, fugiuntque Notes clamore secundo."

[The Trojans, from their walls, raise acclamations to the stars. Ad
ditional hope rouses up their fury. Darts from their hands they hurl,
as under the black lowering clouds Strymonian cranes give the signal
and swim along the skies with obstreperous din, and from the stormy
south winds with joyous clamor fly.]

I consider the marvelous natural trumpet of the crane to be a most
beautiful provision given by the Creator to these wild birds to enable
them to keep their ranks, and not lose each other when migrating.
In fact, we men have adopted the idea by using trumpets. It often
happens that the dust at a field-day is so great that very little can be
seen, while it would be impossible for the human voice to be heard ;
trumpets, therefore, come in here of the greatest service, especially to
direct movements of cavalry. In the same way, the cranes might
possibly lose each other when flying in the wilderness of space of the
vast firmament of ether, and, were it not for their being able to signal
to each other, they would be unable to travel with facility either at
night, or when passing through clouds and fogs.

A few days since a valued correspondent in Ireland sent us the
breastbone of a Hooper swan. I have dissected this, and find the
trachea convoluted in a manner very similar to that of the crane.

There is a legend that when a swan is dying he becomes musical

I 4 o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The origin of this legend probably is the trumpeting of the wild-swan.
This our friends can hear in the Zoological Gardens ; it is a melancholy
sound, and may be thus written " hwoo hwoo." The tame swan has
not this structure of the windpipe, showing, therefore, that it is a
distinct species. As the trumpet is useful to the crane, so also is it
to the swan. They fly very high, in order that the " hawks should
not gain the sky " of them ; they always fly with the wind, and when
going with a stiff breeze are said to go at a pace of a hundred miles
an hour.

Many of our friends have probably heard that amusing bird, the
trumpeter (Cariama cristata). Mr. Cholmondeley, of Condover, has
a very tame specimen, that wanders all over his house, and goes out
walking in the garden with him. In the trumpeter-bird there is a
musical apparatus of another kind. The note of the trumpeter is very
agreeable to the ear.

I have lately dissected a Merganser. I find that his trachea is also
peculiar: it swells out considerably about the third of its way down,
and at the end it bulges out into a box as large as a walnut. The
common duck has a curious larynx. At the bottom of the windpipe
will be found a bony dilatation. Our readers should examine this for
themselves. The female has not this peculiarity, and, strange to say,
although the drake has this very peculiar organism, he is not able to
quack the females only quack ; the males give a short hiss. My
friend Mr. Bartlett informs me that on one occasion a gentleman sent
him this bony box, which the cook had taken out, and said that it was
the ossified heart of a duck. Land and Water.

PETKOLEUM. 1

BY PROF. H. B. COKNWALL.

A LTHOUGH it has only lately acquired its present important
-<LA_ place among articles of commerce, this valuable product of
Nature s laboratory has been known for ages, and was used for me
dicinal and illuminating purposes in ancient times. The petroleum-
spring of Zante, one of the Ionian Islands, was mentioned by Herod
otus more than 2,000 years ago ; and Pliny says that the oil of a
spring at Agrigentum, Sicily, was used in lamps. The city of Genoa
was formerly lighted from the wells of Amiano, in Parma, Italy.

Prof. A. E. Foote (American Chemist, November, 1872) states that

Peter Kalm, in his "Travels in North America," published in 1772,

gives a map of the Pennsylvania oil-springs in 1771 ; but, according

to H. E. Wrigley, the earliest mention of petroleum in that State

1 Petroleum, literally rock-oil, frompetra, rock, and oleum, oil.

PETROLEUM. MI

occurred in the report of the commander of Fort Duquesne, 1750,
when he witnessed the ceremonies of the Seneca Indians on Oil
Creek. A prominent feature of the ceremonies was the burning of
the oil as it oozed from the ground.

The oil-spring of Cuba, Alleghany County, New York, called the
Seneca Oil-Spring, was described by Prof. Silliman, in 1833, as a dirty
pool, about eighteen feet in diameter, covered with a film of oil, which
was skimmed off from time to time for medicinal purposes. The so-
called Seneca-oil was not from this spring, but from Oil Creek. Hil-
dreth,in 1833, gave an account of the salt-wells of the Little Kanawha
Valley, West Virginia, which he says yielded a little oil. In 1840 a
well at Burkesville, Kentucky, was described as spouting oil at the
estimated rate of seventy-five gallons a minute for a few days, but it
then failed entirely (Dana, " Mineralogy," fifth edition, 1869). In
1844 Mr. Murray mentioned the petroleum of Enniskillen, Canada.

About twenty years ago the manufacture of oil from coal and
bituminous shales, having been widely extended through the labors
of Abraham Gesner and James Young, of Glasgow, began to excite
interest in this country, and, according to S. D. Hayes, the first coal-
oil offered for sale in this country was made by Philbrick & Atwood,
in 1852, at the works of the United States Chemical Manufacturing
Company, Waltham, Massachusetts. It was called coup-oil, after the
recent coup d etat of Louis Napoleon, and was used as a lubricator.

In 1856 the first illuminating oil was made by Mr. Joshua Merrill,
from Trinidad bitumen, according to the same authority. According
to H. E. Wrigley, however, a refinery was started as early as 1850
by Mr. Samuel Kier, of Pittsburg, Pennsylvania, for the treatment
of crude petroleum (" Report on Petroleum of Pennsylvania " for the
" Second Geological Survey of Pennsylvania, 1874"). Success being
limited only by the small amount available, search for the oil was
naturally directed to Oil Creek, and in 1858 Messrs. J. G. Eveleth
and George H. Bissell, of New York City, leased one hundred acres
of land near Titusville, on the northern border of Venango County,
Pennsylvania, and engaged Colonel E. L. Drake, of New Haven,
Connecticut, to bore a well. On the 28th of August, 1859, he struck
oil at a depth of seventy-one feet (according to some authorities
sixty-nine and a half feet), and a pump was adjusted which produced
twenty-five barrels a day.

In 1861 the first flowing well was struck by Mr. Funk, on the
M Elhenny Farm, Oil Creek, at a depth of 400 feet. Soon after two
more wells were sunk (the Phillips and Empire), flowing 3,000 bar
rels each daily. Since 1858, in round numbers, 10,500 wells have been
bored in Pennsylvania, and oil-wells also exist in West Virginia,
Ohio, Kentucky, and elsewhere, with results that will be stated here
after.

It would not be proper to leave the history of petroleum without

1 4 2 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

mentioning Prof. B. Silliman s report on Pennsylvania petroleum to
Messrs. Eveleth, Bissell & Reed, 1855.

He examined the rock-oil or petroleum of Venango County, and,
long before the present processes of refining had been introduced,
suggested several very important processes, which have been since
followed in its treatment ; such as distillation by steam, " cracking,"
or breaking up of the heavier oils into lighter compounds, its use for
making gas, for illuminating purposes, for lubricating, etc.

COMPOSITION. Petroleum is a mixture of several hydrocarbons,
and contains also bituminous materials, sulphur, carbonaceous mat
ter, sand, and clay. Its odor is generally offensive. The color and
specific gravity vary greatly. The crude petroleum of Pennsylvania
is generally dark-green with a brownish tinge by reflected light ; the
color of thin layers by transmitted light varies from dark-yellowish
to reddish-brown. The oil of Enniskillen is blackish-brown ; of
Mecca, Ohio, yellow ; in the neighborhood of Shamburg, Venango
County, Pennsylvania, " black " and " green " oils occur side by side
in the same districts ; the lubricating oil of White Oak, West Vir
ginia, is yellow ; that from Amiano, Italy, is red to straw-color ; at
Baku the light oil is clear and faint yellow. Pennsylvania petroleum
is somewhat thick, like thin sirup, but, although stiffened somewhat
by cold, is always fluid. The oil of Pagan, Burmah, is very light,
resembling naphtha, as is some of that from Baku.

The specific gravities of different petroleums are as follows :
White Oak, West Virginia, 28 to 40 Beaume ; Mecca, Ohio, 26 to
27 ; Franklin, Pennsylvania, 30 to 32 ; Cuba, New York, 32 ; Tidi-
oute,43; Pit-Hole, 51 ; Pomeroy, Ohio, 51; Russia, 28 to 40.
The heavy oils command, as a rule, a higher price. Although there
is no certainty about their occurrence, the heavy oils have been fre
quently found at a higher level than the light oils in Pennsylvania,
so that this was at one time supposed to be the rule.

The constituents of the mixture known as petroleum are separated
from each other by fractional distillation ; with care they can be iso
lated in quite a pure state, but in practice they undergo various de
compositions, and are frequently to be regarded rather as products
than as educts of the operations. Some are gaseous at ordinary
temperatures, others are liquid, and others solid. They are divided
into two classes : one having the formula C n H 2n -f 2 , and belonging to
the marsh-gas, or paraffine series ; the other, with the formula C n II 2n ,
belonging to the ethylene series (olefines). They have been carefully
investigated by Pelouze and Cahours, Warren, Schorlemmer, and
Ronalds, and the results obtained by them are given in the following
table, partly compiled from the review of the subject by Prof. S. P.
Sadtler, in Prof. Genth s " Report on the Mineralogy of Pennsylvania"
(" Second Geological Survey, 1874 "). The letters F, R, W, P and C,
and S, indicate the observers, Fouque, Ronalds, Warren, Pelouze and

PETROLEUM.

H3

Cahours, and Schorlemmer. The first and second were found by
Fouque in gaseous exhalations from petroleum-wells at Petrolia (and
Fredonia, New York) ; the third in similar exhalations from wells at
Pioneer Run.

MARSH-GAS SERIES.-FOEMULA C B H a + a .

No.

NAME.

Formula.

Carbon.

Hydrogen.

Boi ling-
Point (C.).

Specific
Grav. (Oo C.).

Observer.

1

Methyl hydrid (methan). .

H 4

75

25

A gas.

.559

F.

2

Ethyl hydrid (aethan)

C 3 H 6

80

20

F.

8

Propyl hydrid (propan) . . .

CqH

81.81

18.19

-17

F. K.

4

Butyl h. "(normal butan). .

C 4 H 10

82.8

17.2

.600

W.

5*

Pseudo-butan

t

U

U

17

.6

Amyl h. (normal peutan) .

C 5 H 12

83.83

16.67

37-39

.645

W.

7
8
9

Dimethyl-propan
Hexyl h. (normal hexan). .
JSthyl-isobutyl

C 6 H 14

83.72

16.28

30.2
68.5
61 3

.626 (17<>)
^9
.676

P. & C., W., 9

P.&C,W,S.

10

Heptyl h. (normal septan).

C 7 H 16

84

16

9S .l

.130

W., 3.

11

90.4

.718

We

12

Octyl h. (normal octan). . .

C 8 H 18

84.21

15.79

127.6

!752

., O.

w.

13

An isomer of No. 12

119.5

.787

W., P. & C.

14

Nonyl hydrid (nonan) ....

C 9 H 20

84.88

15.62

150.8

.756

w.

Pelouze and Cahours carry the marsh-gas series to C 15 H 32 , but
Warren concluded that it terminates with C fl H 20 , and that the oils of
higher density and atomic numbers belong to the ethylene series.

On inspecting the above table it will be seen that numbers 4, 7, 9,
11, 13, and 14, have a common difference of about 30 C. between each
in succession, in regard to their boiling-points ; and that numbers
6, 8, 10, and 12, have a similar common difference, and are each about
8 higher in their boiling-points than the ones next below them. On
this account, Warren divided them into two groups ; but he included
here another C 4 H 10 , with a boiling-point of 8 to 9, which is, according
to Sadtler, a mixture of the two given in the table.

Besides the members of the marsh-gas series given above, Ameri
can petroleum yields liquids boiling above 300 C., which on cooling
yield a solid mass called paraffine, white and transparent when pure.
It probably is a mixture of the higher members of the series C n H 2n+2 ,
and on heating in a sealed tube is converted into a mixture of several
paraffines and olefines of lower molecular weight, liquid at ordinary
temperatures (Fownes).

Of the ethylene series, Warren has found in Pennsylvania petro
leum, decylene, C 10 H 20 , boiling-point 174.9 ; undecylene, C n H aa , boil
ing-point 195.8; and bidecylene, C 12 H 24 , boiling-point 216.2; these
have a difference of about 20 C. in their successive boiling-points.

No higher series of hydrocarbons is yet known from Pennsylva
nia petroleum, bat members of the benzol series, C n H 2n _ 6 , have been
found in other petroleums. Thus De la Rue and Mtiller, in 185C,
found benzol, toluol, and xylol, in Rangoon tar ; Bussenius and Eisen-
stuck discovered xylol in petroleum from Sehnde, Hanover; Pebal
and Freund detected benzol, C 6 H 6 , toluol, C 7 H 8 , xylol, C 8 H 10 , cumol,
C 9 H 12 , and cymol, C ]0 H 14 , in naphtha from Boroslaw, Galicia; De .la
1 Not yet obtained in a pure state.

144 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Rue and Milller found naphthaline, C 10 H 8 , in Rangoon tar ; and, finai
ly, a member of the anthracene series, C n H 2n _ 18 , has been found in the
last products of the distillation of petroleum for paraffine-oil. It is
probably formed by destructive distillation of the petroleum, and has
been called thallene or viridine by Prof. H. Morton, who investigated
especially its fluorescent character.

Petroleum undergoes alteration by evaporation of its lighter con
stituents, leaving viscid or solid bitumen, containing more or less
paraffine ; by oxidation of some hydrogen, giving rise to ethylenes,
benzols, or naphthalenes ; and, by the additional absorption of oxygen,
forming true asphaltum. Of this latter class are the grahamite of
West Virginia and the albertite of Nova Scotia. The grahamite I
believe to have been altered before reaching its present level, for rea
sons which cannot be given here. Mr. W. P. Jenney has made some
interesting experiments on the oxygenation of petroleum and the for
mation of artificial oxygenated hydrocarbons resembling natural
products (American Chemist, April, 1875).

OCCURRENCE OF PETKOLEUM. It occurs in rocks of nearly all ages,
from the Lower Silurian up; most abundantly in shales and sand
stones ; also to some extent in limestones. Sometimes it impreg
nates the whole stratum ; sometimes it collects in subterranean cavi
ties and fissures. In the Rangoon and Caspian regions the oil oc
curs near the surface in clayey soil, and collects in shallow pits. A
noted foreign locality is Ye-nan-gyoung, in Burmah, where the wells
are narrow shafts, 180 to 300 feet deep, and large enough for a
man to work in. The oil is drawn up with a bucket and windlass,
and as many as 1,000,000 barrels are annually obtained. In Persia
oil is largely found at Baku, on the west shore of the Caspian ; China
yields a small amount of oil; Japan has small and undeveloped
districts ; New Zealand, also, shows indications. In the Caucasus,
Russia, surface-wells have long been worked, and lately wells have
been sunk with great success. In Galicia, Austria, are wells yielding
largely ; arid Alsace and Hanover have produced some oil. Petro
leum has likewise been found in Peru, Ecuador, Southern Mexico, San
Domingo, Trinidad, and Nova Scotia, in small quantities.

The petroleum district of Canada West is in Lambton, Bothwell,
and Kent Counties (H. E. Wrigley), and in Ontario. The average
production is not over 2,500 barrels daily. It occurs mainly in the
Corniferous limestone of the Lower Devonian, but is also found in
greater or less quantity in the Bird s-eye limestone of the Lower Si
lurian, and the Lower Helderberg limestone of the Upper Silurian.
The cavities of Orthocerata in the Trenton limestone (Lower Silu
rian) at Pakenham, Canada, frequently hold small quantities of petro
leum. In Canada East there is a petroleum district on the St. John s
River, not far from Gaspe" Bay.

In the United States oil is very abundant in Western Pennsylva-

PETROLEUM. H5

nia, and has been found in considerable quantity in West Virginia,
Ohio, Kentucky, and Tennessee. It has also been found, but in small
quantities, in Xew York State, near Chicago, in Michigan, Indiana,
Colorado, and California. The oil of Southern California comes from
Tertiary shales, and is said to contain no paraffine.

The Upper Oil-Region of Pennsylvania begins in the vicinity of
Tidioute, on the Alleghany, in Warren County, and runs southwest
to Titusville, thence nearly south, along Oil Creek, into Yenango
County to Oil City, and thence southwest to Franklin. East Sandy,
on East Sandy Creek, is at the extreme southeast edge of this field,
and forms the only connecting link between the upper and lower oil
fields of the State. The principal points in this upper region are Tidi
oute, Triumph, and Economy, in the Tidioute District ; West Hick
ory, New London ; the Titusville District, including the Drake well ;
Church Run, Pit-Hole, Shamburg, Petroleum Centre, Rouseville (be
tween these two places were the Blood well, of 1,000 barrels daily,
and the Phillips well, which once flowed 3,940 barrels in twenty-four
hours, and has produced over 500,000 barrels), Oil City, Sage Run,
and Franklin. The Valley of Oil Creek, within a length of twenty
miles, produced over $110,000,000 worth of oil, from an actual area
of less than three square miles.

The Lower Oil Belt begins at Triangle City, Beaver Creek, Clarion
County, and runs southwest twenty-one miles to St. Joe, in Butler
County, and is the greatest producing area so far found (II. E. Wrig-
ley, op. cit.}. In 1866 rock with some oil was struck at Brady s
Bend at a depth of 1,100 feet, giving rise to further investigation of
the river above, which resulted in the discovery of a sand-rock of
57 feet thickness, at a depth of 960 feet, on the Alleghany River at
Parker s Landing. A number of wells that had been supposed fail
ures were afterward drilled to the proper depth, with great results.

The oil-bearing rock of Pennsylvania is a sand-rock, of which dif
ferent strata are struck at different depths.

The operators speak of these as the first sand, second sand, and
so on. After going through loose soil and a shale or slate-rock, the
first sand is struck generally near the surface in the upper oil-regions
(at a depth of 71 feet in the case of the first well sunk, the Drake
well) ; 100 to 200 feet below this is the second sand ; at 300 to 400
feet more the third sand, and then a fourth and fifth sand at inter
vals of about 150 feet. These sand-rocks are generally light-col
ored, and are separated by slate and other dark sand-rocks.

The heavy oil of Franklin comes from a sand-rock 260 feet deep,
and from 50 to 80 feet in thickness. The tower sand-rocks are said
to produce very bright, pure oils. Only 39.5 square miles of the
3,115 miles of the oil-region of Pennsylvania are actually productive.

The West Virginia oil-wells occur along an anticlinal extending
from the borders of Southern Ohio through Wood, Wirt, and Ritchie

VOL. IX. 10

146 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Counties, between thirty-live and forty miles. No oil is found in the
horizontal rocks, but it occurs along the disturbed and broken, tilted
strata on the edges of the line of uplift. This same belt runs north
into Ohio, through Washington and Morgan Counties into Noble
County. Volcano, White Oak, and Burning Springs are the principal
points in West Virginia. The oil is found in subcarboniferous rocks,
ascending to them, from the underlying Devonian.

In Ohio there is another oil-belt, west of the above, beginning in
Perry and Morgan Counties on the north, and running south through
Athens into Meigs County; and in Cuyahoga and Trumbull Counties
are oil-regions closely related to those of Western Pennsylvania. The
" Mecca " oil, a valuable lubricating oil, occurs in the Mecca Oil Rocks
(Berea grit and Bedford shales) of Trumbull County, Ohio. The total
production of Ohio and West Virginia is not over 500 barrels daily
(Wrigley).

The Kentucky oil-district is mainly in Barren and Cumberland
Counties, with a small adjoining tract south of it in Overton County,
Tennessee. A well in Cumberland County, 191 feet deep, produced
300 barrels daily. The abundant supply from Pennsylvania and the
difficulty of transportation have prevented these regions from becom
ing well known.

ORIGIN AND SOURCE OP PETROLEUM. At first it was held by many
that petroleum was a result of distillation from the bituminous coals,
which were found in its vicinity, and this belief was strengthened by
the fact that some of the very bituminous coals, such as Cannel and
Boghead coal, afforded large quantities of similar oils on being dis
tilled; but, although this is very probably the source of a small
amount of oil, yet the larger part of it is now believed to derive its
origin from rocks lying below the coal-measures, since the oil-bearing
rocks are mostly older than the carboniferous formations.

Some investigators have ascribed a vegetable origin to petroleum,
but most authorities agree in attributing it to animal as well as vege
table agencies. Shales are the most common oil-bearing rocks, and in
their formation the organic materials would be finely divided and
protected from oxidation. The oil-bearing shales commonly show
few vegetable remains, and Dana observes that the absence of distinct
fossil animal and vegetable remains points to an abundance of delicate
water-plants or infusorial or microscopic vegetable life as the source
of the organic material contained in them. Limestones, on the other
hand, are frequently full of animal fossil remains, showing an animal
origin for the oil in them, although it is by no means agreed that the
petroleum in certain limestones was derived from organic remains in
the limestones and not from other strata below them. In whatever
shape the finely-divided material was originally present, it would be
finely diffused through the mud, and protected from atmospheric agen-
,cies, and subsequently the hydrocarbons would be formed from them,

PETROLEUM. H7

probably at but a slight elevation of temperature, produced by the
same agencies which have caused elevations in the temperature of the
interior of the earth s crust at various points.

Dana has further pointed out how petroleum might be formed by
the reactions of the organic vegetable remains alone, the abstrac
tion of some carbon and oxygen, as carbonic acid, accounting for the
formation of the lighter oils ; while the escape of some marsh-gas from
less confined material would account for the heavier oils.

Newberry attributes the disagreeable smell of some limestone-oil
to its animal origin, and Dufrenoy alludes to the abundance of fish
fossils as a proof that the oil of various European districts was derived
from animal remains.

As regards the circumstances favoring the accumulation of petro
leum, it appears that there should be a shale or other fine-grained
rock forming to protect the organic matter during its deposition, a
porous stratum above to be penetrated by the hydrocarbons resulting
from the decomposition of the organic matter, and finally another
shale or slate above, to prevent the further escape of the volatile prod
ucts. If the sand-rock which usually forms the porous stratum is
filled with fissures, large quantities of oil may collect in these.

The petroleum of Enniskillen, Canada, is ascribed by Hunt to the
Corniferous limestone of the Lower Devonian. Many geologists as
cribe the oil of Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Ohio, and the rest of
this grand oil area, to the black shale or Genesee slate of the Middle
Devonian. Dr. J. S. Newberry, in his " Report of the Geological
Survey of Ohio," says of the Huron (black) shale of the Middle Devo
nian in Ohio, that it is bituminous, and contains sheets of asphalt or
asphaltic coal. Oil and gas springs are associated with its outcrop,
and there is reason to believe that it supplies the wells of Oil Creek,
Pennsylvania. Hydrocarbons are the product of spontaneous distilla
tion in the outcrops of the Huron shale in Ohio. It shows traces of
marine vegetation, and represents the Gardeau shale of New York,
with whatever there is in Ohio of the underlying Genesee slate. Its
materials appear to have accumulated in a quiet water-basin, being
marine and not terrestrial vegetation. It forms a vast repository of
hydrocarbonaceous matter, yielding ten to twenty gallons of oil per
ton by distillation.

A line of oil and gas springs marks its outcrop, from Central New
York to Tennessee. Emanations of oil and gas occurring from Lower
Silurian rocks at Collingwood,. Canada, and on the Upper Cumberland
River, Kentucky, are associated with similar deposits of black shale
representing the Utica shale (Lower Silurian) of New York. The
wells of Oil Creek penetrate strata immediately overlying the Huron
shale, and the oil is obtained from fissured and porous sheets of sand
stone of the Portage and Chemung groups, which lie just over the
Huron and offer convenient reservoirs for the oil it furnishes. It is a

148 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

well-known fact that wells sunk into the black shale yield no consider
able quantity of oil, unless from strata resting upon it.

The foregoing statements, it will be seen, go to substantiate the
theory upheld by Newberry, in common with other geologists, that
the strata yielding much oil have only served to store the oil which
comes from other strata below. T. S. Hunt holds that the petroleum
of the limestone of Ontario, Canada, and other localities is largely the
result of decomposition of the organic matters in these same rocks, and
not of distillation from below. This view Newberry opposes on the
following grounds : The Corniferous limestone, from his very extended
observations, contains little hydrocarbons ; oil and gas springs are
rare where it underlies the surface ; no considerable quantity of petro
leum has been derived from wells in the Corniferous, Niagara, or any
other limestone ; even at Chicago there are no paying wells. Borings
have been unsuccessful in Ohio wherever the Corniferous is the surface
rock ; and, further, there is no Corniferous limestone where Hunt cites
it in Kentucky. There is positive proof that part of the oil comes
from a lower horizon, and probably the Canada oil comes from under
lying Silurian Collingwood shale. On Oil Creek are the argillaceous
shales of the Waverley and Chemung strata, forming the sides and
bottom of the valley, and below are several beds of sandstone, with
the black shales of the Portage and Genesee still lower. In Ohio
these favorable conditions are wanting ; the sand-rocks of Oil Creek
thin out and give place to fine, impervious, argillaceous shales; the
strata become more homogeneous and free from crevices, and hence
the oil cannot penetrate them so well. In Cuyahoga County, Ohio,
the wells reach down through carboniferous recks to the Huron shale,
but there are no good wells, because the sandstone reservoirs are lack
ing, and only close-grained shales are present.

Hunt, on the other hand, holds that the petroleum of Southwest
Ontario, and probably in other localities, is to be sought in the olifer-
ous limestones of the Corniferous and Niagara formations, both of
which abound in indigenous petroleum (American Journal of Sci
ence, III., ii., 369), which, in the case of the Ontario limestone, he
shows cannot have come from overlying strata. He also mentions a
well sunk at Terre Haute, Indiana, 1,900 feet deep, which yields two
barrels of oil daily ; and a second one, very near, which yields 25
barrels. This one is 1,625 feet deep, and passes through 700 feet of
coal-measures, 700 feet of carboniferous limestone, with underlying
sandstone and shales, 50 feet of Genesee slate (or its equivalent), and
at a depth of 25 feet below this the oil-vein was met with in Cornif
erous limestone. A third well, a mile east, at a depth of 2,000 feet
showed no oil.

The truth seems to be, that these limestones may contain a little
petroleum indigenous to them, but they have not furnished the grand
supplies of very produotive regions. Before leaving this part of the

PETROLEUM.

149

subject, mention should be made of the gas which so generally accom
panies the oil. It is often met with in the oil-regions when no oil is
struck, producing "gas-wells;" and is also met with where no oil, or
very little, is found, on the borders of the oil-districts. Many private
residences and manufacturing establishments are heated and lighted
by this gas ; Fredonia, New York, has been lighted with it for years.
The Newton gas-well, five miles south of Titusville, Pennsylvania, is
786 feet deep, and yielded 4,000,000 cubic feet per day, supplying
light and fuel to a great number of dwellings and manufactories in
Titusville. A rolling-mill near Pittsburg is run by gas brought
from Butler County, a distance of about nineteen miles, and when it
is not needed the gas is lighted, furnishing a jet of flame seventy feet
high, which, with another jet from a neighboring mill, furnishes a
grand spectacle at night.

This gas is the cause of spouting-vvells. If a well is sunk into the
top of a fissure containing oil and gas, the gas will first escape, and
then the oil must be pumped out ; but, if the well strikes in the oil,
the pressure of the gas would first drive out the oil. If water also
was present and the well struck the bottom of the fissure the heavier
water would first escape, then the oil, and then the gas. Such a well,
after standing a while would again yield oil on pumping, then perhaps
water only, or water and oil, until it had had another rest. If the
supply of gas is kept up by an open crevice, the well may continue to
flow for some time. The pressure of neighboring water may also
cause the oil to flow from a well. Generally the pumping-wells are
pretty constant, although when a number of wells are bored near
together they interfere with each other, and sometimes water poured
down one well will appear in another, and this method has been
pursued to bring rival well-owners to terms.

A few words may here be said about drilling wells and transport
ing the oil. The wells are drilled by means of drilling-tools like
those used in sinking artesian wells, which are suspended by a cable,
and operated by small steam-engines. The well is lined with wrought-
iron tubing, screwed together in sections, and, to prevent water from
flowing down the outside of the lining into the well, a water-packer is
used, which is essentially a circular piece of leather with the edges
cut and turned upward, so that the whole forms a cup about the tube,
which is pressed tightly against the sides of the well by the weight
of the column of water. It is much better than the old flaxseed bag.
The oil is conveyed from the oil-district to the refineries and shipping-
stations by means of wrought-iron pipes, two to four inches in diam
eter, which form a network throughout the entire country, and have
an aggregate length of nearly 2,000 miles. One company carries the
oil thirty-seven miles, in this way, from Butler County to the vicinity
of Pittsburg.

REFINING AND USES OF PETROLEUM. Crude petroleum contains

ISO THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

gases and volatile liquids giving off at ordinary temperatures gases,
which form explosive mixtures with air; heavy oils, which injure its
burning properties, but are useful as furnishing lubricators and paraf-
fine ; tarry and carbonaceous matters ; sulphur and other compounds,
which give an offensive odor when burned. It is therefore refined by
distillation, to separate the useful products in a pure state. The general
features of the process will be best illustrated by a practical example,
and for this purpose we have selected the well-known refinery of
Charles Pratt & Co., at Greenpoint, Long Island, manufacturers of
Pratt s Astral Oil. This establishment has a capacity of 15,000
barrels weekly.

The crude oil, coming mostly from Pennsylvania, with a specific
gravity of 46 to 48 Beaume, is run into horizontal cylindrical stills
of wrought-iron, heated by anthracite fires. Eight of these stills have
a capacity of 600 barrels each, and there are eight smaller ones.
From these stills pipes lead to large worms, cooled by running
water, and connected with a series of small tanks, so that the prod
ucts from each still can be separately collected, and the successive
portions that come from the still can be kept apart, according to their
specific gravity.

At about 160 Fahr. (70 C.) the gases begin to come off abun
dantly, and these are conducted from the lower end of the worms to
heat the steam-boilers. At about 225 Fahr. (107 C.) gasoline, hav
ing a specific gravity of 85 B., begins to run from the worm ; after
an hour and a half, at a temperature of 325 Fahr. (163 C.) naphtha
begins to run, with a density of 74 B., and continues for about three
hours; at 350-400 Fahr. (177-200 C.) benzine, with a density of
62 B., begins and runs about one hour. For the remainder of the
heat, about thirty hours, illuminating oil is collected, with a density
of 48-50 B., and ending with a temperature of 750 Fahr. (398 C.).
The residuum, having a density of 20 B., is drawn off and shipped in
barrels to the paraffine and lubricating oil-works. Steam is then run
into the still for nearly two hours to remove the gas, the man-hole is
opened, and the coke scraped off to be used for fuel.

The results of this operation are about as follows :

Gasoline 3 per cent.

Naphtha 10 " u

Benzine 3 " "

Illuminating oil 75 " "

Residuum. 4 " "

Coke and loss 5 " "

Total 100

The residuum yields by subsequent treatment paraffine to the
amount of about one per cent, of the crude petroleum.

The illuminating oil comes from the worm at a temperature of

PETROLEUM. 151

about 80 Fahr. (49 C.) and is pumped from the receiving-tank into
the agitator, an immense cylindrical tank of boiler-iron, holding 1,800
barrels (a smaller one holds 500), where it is cooled (if necessary) to
60 Fahr. by water run in at the top by sprinkling from a hose, and
drawn off below. Forty-four gallons of strong commercial sulphuric
acid being added for every 100 barrels of oil, the mixture is agitated
by air pumped in through a pipe leading down through the oil to the
bottom. This is done by an engine, and produces a very thorough mixt
ure, during which the temperature rises, and when it reaches 70 Fahr.
(21 C.) the operation is ended. Water is then played upon the top
for about three hours, when caustic-soda lye of 20 B. is added, in the
proportion of 500 gallons to 1,800 barrels of oil, thoroughly agitated
with the oil, and then drawn off at the bottom after settling. The
sulphuric acid purifies the oil partly by combining with, partly by
breaking up, the injurious compounds, and the soda is added to neu
tralize the acid. Finally, the oil is again washed with water and
drawn off into bleaching-pans, of which one has a capacity of 2,000
barrels, and two others of 750 each. Here the oil is left under a roof
and exposed to diffused daylight four or five hours, to improve its
color, and is then removed to the storage-tanks. It is possible to
expose the oil too long in the bleachers, injuring its color. It is a
curious fact, noticed in several refineries, that the oil, after removal
to the agitator and before treatment with the acid, sometimes gives
off spontaneously inflammable gas, which has been known to take fire
during the cooling with water.

The gasolene is used for making gas. The naphtha and benzine
destined for the market are kept separate, but sometimes they are
further treated at the refinery, and are then run together, and sent to
the naphtha-works with a density of 68 to 70 B. Here they are
treated in iron stills of 200 to 600 barrels capacity, heated by coal.
The vapors are condensed in a series of three worms, and the opera
tion is so managed that the various products are obtained of the re
quired density. These products are gasolene, of 90 (sometimes 97),
88, and 86 B. ; naphtha, of 76 and 71; benzine, of 65 and 62.
Most of the benzine shipped is of the latter density. The barrels
used for shipping all of these products are coated inside with glue.

The residuum is either " cracked " in special stills (a process of
which we shall have more to say hereafter) or it is sold to be worked
up for lubricating oils and paraffine.

Mr. Joshua Merrill, manufacturing chemist of the Downer Kero
sene Oil Company, has made several very important discoveries in the
treatment of petroleum, and a short account of them has been given in
a " Memoir on Petroleum Products," communicated to the Society of
Arts, Massachusetts Institute of Technology, by S. D. Hayes, March
14, 1872, from which some facts are here selected :

Neutral lubricating oil, free from offensive odors and tastes, was

152 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

partly the result of an accident. The condenser of a still heated by
direct fire and charged with 900 gallons of mixed heavy and light
oils, became partially closed, and the pressure caused leakage at the
bottom of the still. The fire was very gradually drawn, after 250
gallons of light oil had passed oft* The next day the oil in the still
was found to be light-yellow, nearly odorless, neutral, and dense ;
the light, odorous hydrocarbons having been removed, at this low
temperature, without decomposing either the distillate or the oil in
the still. Further experiments perfected the process, which is greatly
aided by the admission of steam from an open pipe into the body of
the still during distillation.

Mineral sperm-oil was the result of experiments by Messrs. J. and
R. S. Merrill on burning heavy lubricating oil and paraffine in lamps,
especially constructed for the purpose. The light was very r good, but
the liquid was too thick to ascend into the wick. To obviate this
the oil was subjected to a partially destructive distillation, " crack
ing " it enough to render it mobile, but not volatile.

The manner in which the crude petroleum is treated to obtain
these various products is briefly outlined here from Prof. Hayes s
sketch : The crude oil is heated by steam in upright, wrought-iron
cylinders, incased in wood, of 12,000 gallons capacity. About 15
per cent, of distillate passes off and is condensed in pipes surrounded
by water, yielding gasolene and A, B, and C naphthas, which are
separately collected. From the gasolene rhigolene can be obtained
by a second distillation w r ith steam-heat, condensing the first portions
of the distillate by ice and salt; ten per cent, is obtained from the
gasolene. The steamed oil is pumped from the naphtha-stills into
small stills, holding 1,000 gallons each, and heated by direct fires.
Only carbon remains in these stills, some uncondensable gas escapes,
and the other products are : No. 1, crude illuminating oil ; No. 2, in
termediate oils; No. 3, crude lubricating oil. Each of these is redis
tilled in the same sort of still. No. 1 is agitated with sulphuric acid,
then w r ith caustic soda, and distilled, yielding 80 per cent, of its
volume of finished kerosene (refined illuminating oil) and mineral
sperm-oil, and nearly 20 per cent, of denser oil. No. 2 is at once
redistilled, yielding chiefly crude lubricating oil. No. 3 is agitated
with sulphuric acid and then distilled with caustic soda in the still,
yielding mainly dense paraifine-oil. This is kept in wooden barrels in
ice-houses from seven to ten days, and deposits crystalline parafline,
which is pressed in strong cloth bags, one above another, with sheet-
iron between, and yields crude paraftine-wax and heavy oil. The
paraffine is repeatedly recrystallized from solution in naphtha and
pressed, until it is white and pure enough for sale. The heavy oil is
heated in stills by direct fires, slowly increased, but kept as low
as possible, and generally with the admission of steam, until 20
to 30 per cent, has passed over. The residue is ready for sale,

PETROLEUM. 153

having only a slight odor like that of fat-oils, while the hydrocarbons
that are condensed after passing over have a very offensive odor.
The very last distillates from all of the destructive distillations are
called " cokings," and are distilled by themselves, yielding mainly
crude lubricating oil. The carbon separated in the stills contains
some caustic soda, which can be obtained as carbonate by burning
the carbon and lixiviating the ashes. The sulphuric acid used in
agitating the oils is known as " sludge," and is sometimes sold to the
makers of superphosphate of lime, although it has been occasionally
successfully reconverted into oil of vitriol. The following list in
cludes ,the commercial products which have been made from petro
leum, being those already mentioned, with the exception of cymo-
gene, which is distilled from gasolene, and condensed by a pump :

1. Cymogene, specific gravity 110 Beaunie ; boils at 32 F. (0 C.) ;
used in ice-machines. 2. Rhigolene, sp. gr. 100 B. ; boils at 65 F.
(18.3 C.) ; extremely volatile, producing by its rapid evaporation a
temperature of 19 F. ; used as a local anesthetic. 3. Gasolene,
sp. gr. 97, 90, 88, and 86 B., as required by the market. The very
light gasolene is ordered in small quantities, probably for ice-machines.
The others are used in gas-machines, for which they are admirably
adapted, and for various exceedingly dangerous lamps and stoves
designed for their combustion. 4. Naphtha, sp. g. 70 to 76 B. ;
boils at 180 F. (27 C.), when of 70 gravity; used in manufacture of
oil-cloths, cleansing, as a solvent for paraffine, etc. ; sometimes fraudu
lently mixed with the higher-priced illuminating oils, or with crude
petroleum, to be again sold to the refiner ; also sold, under various
names, as a burning-fluid, notwithstanding the certain danger attend
ing its use. 5. Benzine, sp. gr. 65 to 62 B. ; the boiling-point for
65 B. is 300 F. (149 C.) ; used in making paints and varnishes. 9.
Illuminating oil (kerosene), sp. gr. 45 to 50 B. ; boiling-point for
45 B. is 350 F. (177 C.). " Astral " oil and " mineral sperm " are
particularly safe varieties, freed with care from explosive compounds.
7. Lubricating oil. ;< Neutral " lubricating oil has a specific gravity
of 29 B., and boils at 575 F. (301.5 C.). 8. Paraffine, sp. gr. 0.87 ;
fusing-point for commercial paraffine about 110 to 150 F. (43.3 to
65 C.), according to its purity ; boiling-point about 698 F. (370 C.) ;
used for making water-proof fabrics, candles, lubricators, matches,
chewing-gum, etc.

The refined illuminating oil should be free from more volatile
compounds, which cause it to give off vapors that explode when
mixed with air and ignited. Dr. White, President of the New Orleans
Board of Health, found that, on adding to oil which " flashed " at
113 F. one per cent, of naphtha, the mixture flashed at 103 ; with
two per cent, at 92 ; with five per cent, at 83 ; with 20 per cent, the
oil itself burned at 50 ("Report on Petroleum to New York Board
of Health," Dr. C. F. Chandler, 1871). Dr. Chandler has found that

154 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the temperature of the oil in an ordinary glass oil-lamp ranges from
76 to 98 F., and in a metal lamp from 76 to 129 F., the lower limits
being for rooms heated between 73 and 74 F., and the higher for a
temperature of 90 to 92. It is, therefore, evident that an oil giving
off explosive gases at less than 100 F. must be dangerous, and even
at 110 F. an accident might occur, but only in exceptional circum
stances.

The oils must, therefore, stand a certain test, called the " flashing
test," which consists in heating them, preferably, in a thin metal or
glass cup which holds the oil, and is itself placed in another vessel full
of cold water, which is gradually heated by a small spirit-lamp. The
bulb of a thermometer is kept well immersed beneath the surface of the
oil, draughts are to be avoided, and the heat very slowly raised. From
time to time, as the flashing-point is approached, the temperature is
noted, and a very small flame, as a gas-jet issuing from a glass tube
drawn to a fine point, is quickly passed across its surface, taking care
not to touch the oil. A faint blue flame will flash across the oil when
it reaches a temperature at which explosive gases are given off. Al
though it is generally agreed that the temperature should be very
gradually raised, fifteen minutes being allowed for a test, yet Calvert
(Chemical News, May, 1870) states that an oil which flashed at 90
F., after fifteen minutes, showed a flashing-point of 101, when thirty
minutes were consumed in making the test. Oil of 100 is not safe
absolutely. There is another test called the burning-test, the point at
which an oil will take fire and burn ; it is from 10 to 50 F. above the
flashing-test (Chandler), and is of little value in determining the safety
of an oil, because, as already shown, the addition of one per cent, of
naphtha will lower the flashing-test 10 in a good oil, while it would
not materially affect the burning-point. From the directions already
given for testing oil any one can readily make the test, and in view
of the large number of unsafe oils sold it is very important that such
tests should be made before using an oil not known to be safe.

The subject of refining petroleum may be dismissed with a few
words more about " cracking " oils. It is the object of the refiner to
make as much illuminating oil as possible, and to do this advantage
is taken of the fact that, when the vapors of heavy oils are heated
above their boiling-points, carbon is deposited, and the condensed
hydrocarbons resulting have a less specific gravity. This decompo
sition is technically called " cracking," and it was observed long ago
that in distilling the heavier oils lighter hydrocarbons were obtained
during the first stages of the operation, even when not wanted.
Cracking can be accomplished by distilling the oils under pressure,
or, as is the case in the very large stills now employed, by allowing
the vapors of the heavier hydrocarbons, on condensing, to flow down
again upon the now hotter oil in the still, whereby they are cracked,
depositing carbon. By carefully adapting the heat to the changing

PETROLEUM. 155

character of the oil, the yield of illuminating oil can be increased, but
a residuum is always left in the large stills to be afterward treated in
smaller ones.

S. D. Hayes states that this operation can be reversed, and from
two to ten per cent, of a heavy oil obtained from the lightest and
cheapest gasolene or petroleum naphtha. This change he observed
in an apparatus constructed by Mr. Z. A. Willard, for generating
gases and hydrocarbon vapors for metallurgical purposes. It consisted
essentially of upright wrought-iron cylinders, half-full of the naphtha,
through which steam at the ordinary working temperature and press
ure passed, vaporizing the naphtha, and maintaining a pressure of about
fifty pounds to the inch. The steam and naphtha vapors were thus
kept above the liquid at a temperature much above the boiling-point
of naphtha, but never as high as 300 Fahr., and the decompositions
appeared to occur rather in the vapors than in the liquid. The heavy
oil drawn off below had a dark yellowish-brown color, was nearly
odorless after a few days exposure to the air, had a specific gravity
of about 34 Beaume, and boiled above 400 Fahr. By redistilling, it
was broken up into lighter and heavier liquid hydrocarbons, paraftine,
and separated carbon (American Journal of Science, III., ii., 184).

PETROLEUM AS A FUEL AND GAS-PRODUCER. The use of gasolene in
gas-machines is well known, and sometimes naphtha Las been used to
enrich coal-gas, by decomposing its vapor at a cherry -red heat, so as
to produce a gas rich in heavy hydrocarbons, which is mixed with
the coal-gas. Crude petroleum has also been conducted continuously
into red-hot cast-iron retorts, whereby it is decomposed and rich gas
formed. The Lowe process, now making daily 120,000 cubic feet of
gas, of 19.5 candle-power, for a five-foot burner, at Utica, New York,
is very successful. It consists essentially in forcing steam through a
generator partly full of anthracite coal, brought to intense ignition ;
the steam is decomposed, and the resulting hydrogen meets crude pe
troleum that trickles down through the top of the generator; the
petroleum is carried in vapor with the hydrogen into a " superheater"
filled with loose fire-bricks, previously intensely heated by the gases
from the generator. Here the hydrogen and hydrocarbons react upon
each other, producing a permanent gas, which is purified as usual.
The resulting gas is of uniform quality, very pure, and the saving in
labor and materials is about 35 per cent, over coal-gas (Scientific
American, January 8, 1876).

As regards the use of petroleum for fuel, it has always been found
difficult to secure the complete combustion of the oil, so as to avoid
smoke ; the complicated nature of the contrivances devised for its use
has also worked against its introduction as a fuel ; but a furnace for
reheating and rolling scrap-iron into boiler-plate has been invented
by C. J. Eames, and is worked in Jersey City, which deserves men
tion. Prof. H. Wurtz (American Chemist, September, 1875) has de-

I 5 6

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

scribed it at length. A current of steam heated to incandescence,
meeting crude petroleum as it drips slowly over cast-iron shelves,
takes up all the oil and carries it to a chamber where it meets an air-
blast and passes on to the combustion-chamber. This is a cellular
tier of fire-bricks occupying the space over the bridge-wall of an ordi
nary furnace. Here the combustion begins, and thence the flames
pass into the furnace, heating the six piles of iron, of 500 pounds each,
which form a charge. Eight tons of boiler-plate can be worked off in
ten hours with 300 gallons of crude petroleum, to which should be
added 500 pounds of coal for generating and heating the steam. Pe
troleum is also used as a source of power in hydrocarbon engines
(G. B. Brayton s), its vapor being mixed with air and ignited.

PRODUCTION AND VALUE OF PETROLEUM AND ITS PRODUCTS. When
the first abundant supplies of petroleum were obtained, the demand for
it as an illuminator was small, and it could be bought at the wells for
ten cents a barrel, or was even allowed to run to waste (Wrigley),
but as the consumption increased the price rose steadily, reaching, in
1864, $13.75 per barrel. The average prices per barrel at Titusville
are given below, taken from StoweWs Petroleum Reporter, Pittsburg :

1864

. . . . $7 62

1870

$3 74

1865

618

1871

4 50

1866

3 78

1872

3 84

1867

2 54

1873

1 84

1868

3 95

1874

1 29

1869..

5 48

1875..

1 48

The production of the Pennsylvania oil-region, from 1859 to 1874,
according to Wrigley, has been as follows :

1859 3,200 barrels.

1860 650,000

1861 2,113,600

1862 3,056,606

1863 2,611,359

1864 2,116,182

1865 3,497,712

1866 3,597,527

1867 3,347,306 barrels.

1868 3,715,741 u

1869 4,215,000 "

1870 5,659,000 "

1871 5,795,000 "

1872 6,539,103 "

1873 9,879,303 "

1874 10,910,303 "

The yield for 1859 is put at about 2,000 barrels by Mr. S. II. Stow-
ell, who has also kindly furnished the following statistics :

Total Yield of the United States in 1875.

Pennsylvania 8,787,506 bbls.,-of 42 galls.

Western Virginia (approximated) 182,000 "

All other sources, " 17,150 "

Total 8,986,656 "

The total value of the crude oils at the wells, up to the end of 1874,
is given by Wrigley as $235,475,120, with an additional value for

PETROLEUM. ls?

the refining of 75 per cent, of the whole, at $2 per barrel, of over
$100,000,000. The stock of crude oil on hand at the wells, in December,
1875, was 3,550,207 barrels. The total export from the United States
during 1875 was: Crude petroleum, 378,532 barrels (of 40 gallons
each) ; refined, 5,086,785 ; naphtha, 344,978. The average price of
these in New York has been, per gallon :

Crude, in Bulk. Refined, in Barrels. Naphtha, in Barrels.

1875 6.59 cents. 12.99 cnts. 9.67 cent s.

1874 5.86 " 13.09 " 8.85 "

1873 7.62 " 18.21 " 11.07 "

1872 12.80 " 23.75 u -14.81 "

Estimating the freight at $2.50 per barrel to the sea-board, and
including the cost of refining and handling, Wrigley puts the total
value of petroleum exported to foreign parts from Pennsylvania, since
the beginning of the industry, at a minimum of $260,000,000.

In 1874 nearly 600 wells were drilled, producing an average of 50
barrels each ; in 1875, about the same number, with an average of less
than 25 barrels ; and there were 3,125 producing-wells in Pennsylvania,
January 1, 1876 (Stowell).

According to the rules of the New York Produce Exchange, crude
petroleum shall be understood to be pure, natural oil, neither steamed
nor treated, and free from water, sediment, or any adulteration, and
of the gravity of 40 to 47 Beaume. An allowance of one-half of one
per cent, for every quarter of a degree above 47 gravity shall be made
to the buyer. Refined petroleum shall be standard white or better,
with a fire-test of 110 Fahr. or upward. Settlements of contracts
shall be as follows : Barreled oil or naphtha, on a basis of forty-six
gallons per barrel ; refined oil, in bulk, forty-five gallons ; crude oil,
in bulk, forty gallons.

Dr. Chandler states that the average cost per hour of light equal
to eight candles is as follows the gas being sixteen-candle power,
with a five-foot burner, the standard kerosene flashing at 115 Fahr.,
and the sperm-candles burning each 120 grains per hour :

From sperm-candles, at 42 cents per pound 5.76 cents.

Gas, at $3 per 1,000 feet 0.75

Mineral sperm-oil, in German student-lamp, at 75 cents per gallon. . 0.57
" " in Merrill s lamp 0.48

Astral oil, in flat-wick lamp, at 50 cents per gallon 0.46

" " in German student-lamp 0.44

" " in Merrill s lamp 0.34

Standard kerosene, in flat-wick lamp, at 40 cents per gallon 0.33

" " in German student-lamp 0.31

" in Merrill s lamp 0.28 "

158 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

LESSONS IN ELECTEICITY. 1

HOLIDAY LECTURES AT THE ROYAL INSTITUTION.

BY PROF. TYNDALL, F. E. S.

III.

SECTION 13. Electric Induction. We have now to apply the the
ory of electric fluids to the important subject of electric induction.
It was noticed by early observers that contact was not necessary
to electrical excitement. Otto von Guericke, as we have already
seen, found that a body brought near his sulphur globe became elec
trical. By bringing his excited glass tube near one end of a conduct
or, Stephen Gray attracted light bodies at the other end. He also
obtained attraction through the human body. From the human body,
also, Du Fay, to his astonishment, obtained a spark. Canton, in 1753,
suspended pith-balls by thread, and, holding an excited glass tube at
a considerable distance, caused them to diverge. On removing the
tube the balls fell together, no permanent charge being imparted to
them. Such phenomena were further studied and developed by
Wilcke and JEpinus, Coulomb and Poisson.

These and all similar results are embraced by the law that, when an
electrified body is brought near an unelectrified one, the neutral fluid
of the latter is decomposed, one of its constituents being attracted,
the other repelled. When the electrified body is withdrawn, the sep
arated electricities flow again together and render the body unelectric.

This decomposition of the neutral fluid by the mere presence of an
electrified body is called induction. It is also called electrification
by influence.

If, while it is under the influence of the electrified body, the body
influenced be touched, the free electricity (which is always of the
same kind as that of the influencing body) passes away, the opposite
electricity being held captive.

On removing the electrified body the captive electricity is set free,
the conductor being charged with electricity opposite in kind to that
of the body which electrified it.

You cannot do better here than repeat Stephen Gray s experiment.
Support a small plank upon a warm tumbler, and bring under one of
its ends and near it scraps of light paper or of gold-leaf. Excite your
glass tube vigorously, and bring it over the other end of the plank,
without touching it. The ends may be six or eight feet apart ; the light
bodies will be attracted. The experiment is easily made, and you are
not to rest satisfied till you can make it with ease and certainty.

*A course of six lectures, with simple experiments in frictional electricity, before
juvenile audiences during the Christmas holidays.

LESSON S IN ELECTRICITY.

1 S9

This is a fit place to say that you must keep a close eye upon the
tumblers you employ for insulation. Some of them, made of common
glass, are hardly to be accounted insulators at all. We shall prove this.

Our mastery over this subject of induction must be complete, for
it underlies all our subsequent inquiries. Without reference to it
nothing is to be explained ; possessed of it you will enjoy, not only a
wonderful power of explanation, but of prediction. We will attack
it, therefore, with the determination to exhaust it.

And here a slight addition must be made to our apparatus. We
must be in a condition to take samples of electricity, and to convey
them, with the view of testing them, from place to place. For this
purpose the little " carrier," shown in Fig. 10, will be found conven
ient. Tis a bit of tin-foil, two or three inches square. A straw stem
is stuck on to it by sealing-wax, the lower end of the stem being cov
ered by sealing-wax. To make the insulation sure, the part between
JK and S is wholly of sealing-wax. You can have stems of ebonite,
which are stronger, for a few pence ; but you can have this one for a
fraction of a penny. The end R is to be held in the hand ; the elec
trified body is to be touched by T y and the electricity conveyed to an
electroscope to be tested.

R

FIG. 10.

FIG. 11.

Touch your rubbed glass rod with T, and then touch your electro
scope : the leaves diverge with positive electricity. Touch your
rubbed gutta-percha or sealing-wax with T, and then touch your elec
troscope : the leaves diverge with negative electricity. If the elec
tricity of any body augment the divergence produced by the glass,
the electricity of that body is positive. If it augment^the divergence
produced by the gutta-percha, the electricity is negative,
we are ready for further work.

And now

160 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Place an egg, E, Fig. 11, on its side upon a dry wineglass ; bring
your excited glass tube, 6r, within an inch or so of the end of the egg.
What is the condition of the egg ? Its electricity is decomposed ;
the negative covering the end a adjacent to the tube, the positive
covering the other end b. Remove the glass tube : what occurs ?
The two electricities flow together and neutrality is restored. Prove
this neutrality. Neither a carrier touching the egg, nor the egg it
self, has any power to affect your electroscope, or to attract a lath
balanced in the manner already described.

Again, bring the excited tube near the egg. Touch its distant
part b with your carrier. The carrier now attracts the straw or the
balanced lath. It also causes the leaves of your electroscope to di
verge. What is the quality of the electricity ? It repels and is re
pelled by rubbed glass ; the electricity at b is, therefore, positive.
Discharge the carrier by touching it, and bring it into contact with
the end a of the egg nearest to the glass tube. The electricity you
take away repels and is repelled by gutta-percha. It is, therefore,
negative. Test the quality, also, by the electroscope.

While the tube G is near the egg touch the end b with your fin
ger; now try to charge the carrier by touching b: you cannot do so
the positive electricity has disappeared. Has the negative disap
peared also. No. Remove the glass tube, and once more touch the
egg at b with the carrier. It is charged, not with positive, but with
negative electricity. Clearly understand this experiment. The neu
tral electricity of the egg is first decomposed into negative and posi
tive ; the former attracted, the latter repelled by the excited glass.
The repelled electricity is free to escape, and it has escaped on your

FIG. 12.

touching the egg with your finger. But the attracted electricity can
not escape as long as the influencing tube is held near. On removing
the tube which holds the negative fluid in bondage, that fluid imme
diately diffuses itself over the whole egg. An apple, or a turnip, will
answer for these experiments at least as well as an egg.

LESSONS IN ELECTRICITY. !6i

Discharge the egg by touching it. Reexcite the glass tube and
bring it again near. Touch the egg with a wire or with your finger
at a. Is it the negative at a, into which you plunge your finger, that
escapes ? No such thing. The free positive fluid passes through the
negative, and through your finger to the earth. Prove this, by re
moving first your finger and then the glass tube. The egg is charged
negatively.

Again: place two eggs, E E^ Fig. 12, lengthwise on two dry
wineglasses, g g^ and cause two of their ends to touch each other, as
at C. Bring your rubbed glass rod near the end a, and while it is
there separate the eggs by moving one glass away from the other.
Withdraw the rod and test both eggs : a is negative, b is positive.
The two charges neutralize each other in the electroscope. Again :
bring the eggs together and restore the rubbed tube to its place near
a. Touch a and then separate the eggs. Remove the glass rod and
test the eggs : a is negative, b is neutral. Its electricity has escaped
through the finger, though placed at a.

Push your experiments still farther, and, instead of bringing the
eggs, T T f , Fig. 13, together, place them six feet or so apart, and let
a light chain, (7, or wire stretch from one to the other. Two brass

FIG. 13.

balls or wooden balls covered with tin-foil, and supported by tall
drinking-glasses, G Gr, will be better than the eggs for this experi
ment, for they will bear better the strain of the chain ; but you can
make the experiment with the eggs, or very readily with two apples
or two turnips. For the present we will suppose the straw-index II
not to be there. Rub your glass tube R, and bring it near one of the
balls ; test both: the near one, T , is negative, the distant one, T,
positive. Touch the near one, the positive electricity, which had been
driven along the chain to the remotest part of the system, returns
along the chain, passes through the negative which is held captive by
the tube, and escapes to the earth. When the tube is removed, nega
tive electricity overspreads both chain and balls.

In Fig. 6 you made the acquaintance of the plate N, and the

VOL. IX 11

162

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

straw-index / / , shown in Fig. 13. By its means you immediately
see both the effect of the first induction and the consequence of
touching any part of the system with the finger. The plate N rests
over the ball or turnip T, the position of the straw-index being that
shown by the dots. Bring the rubbed tube near T : the end JVof the
index immediately descends and the other end rises along the grad
uated scale. Remove the glass rod ; the index 1 1 immediately falls.
Practise this approach and withdrawal, and observe how promptly
the index declares the induction and recomposition of the fluids.

While the tube is near T, and the end JVof the index is attracted,
let T be touched by the finger. The end JVis immediately liberated,
for the electricity which pulled it down escapes along the chain and
through the finger to the earth. Now remove your excited tube.
The captive negative electricity diffuses itself over both balls, and
the index is again attracted.

Instead of the chain you may interpose between the balls one
hundred feet of wire supported by silk loops. This is done in Fig.
14, which shows the wire w supported by the silk strings S S $, and
where, for the ball or turnip, the cylinder (7, on a glass support Gr, is
substituted. Every approach and withdrawal of the rubbed glass
tube H is followed obediently by the corresponding motion of the
index.

FIG. 14.

Or, substituting a carrot, a cucumber, or other elongated conduct
or for the ball T , Fig. 12, you cause your rubbed glass tube to act
upon a greater extent of surface. You thus decompose more elec
tricity and produce a greater attraction.

Repeat here an experiment, first made by a great electrician named
^Epinus. I wish you to make these grand old experiments. Support
an elongated metal conductor, or one formed of wood coated with
tin-foil even a carrot, cucumber, or parsnip, so that it will be insu-

LESSONS IN ELECTRICITY. ^3

lated, will answer. Let a small weight suspended from a silk string
rest on one end of the conductor, and hold your rubbed glass rod
near the other end. You can. predict beforehand what will occur
when you remove the weight. It carries away with it electricity,
which repels rubbed glass, and which attracts your balanced lath.

Stand on an insulating stool : make one, if necessary, by placing
a board on four warm tumblers. Present the knuckles of your right
hand to the end of the balanced lath, and stretch forth your left arm.
There is no attraction. But let a friend or an assistant bring the
rubbed glass tube over the left arm ; the lath immediately follows
the right hand.

While matters continue thus, touch the lath, which I suppose to
be uninsulated ; the " attractive virtue," as it was called by Gray, dis
appears. After this, as long as the excited tube is held over the arm
there is no attraction. But when the tube is removed the attractive
power of the hand is restored. Here, you will at once comprehend,
the first attraction w r as by positive electricity driven to the right hand
from the left, and the second attraction by negative electricity, liber
ated by the removal of the glass rod.

Stand on an insulating stool, and place your right hand on the
electroscope : there is no action. Stretch forth the left arm and per
mit an assistant alternately to bring near, and to withdraw, an excited
glass tube. The gold-leaves open and collapse in similar alternation.
At every approach, positive electricity is driven over the gold-leaves ;
at every withdrawal, the equilibrium is restored.

I will now ask you to charge your Dutch gold electroscope posi
tively by rubbed gutta-percha, and to charge it negatively by rubbed
glass. A moment s reflection will enable you to do it. You bring
your excited body near : the same electricity as that of the excited
body is driven over the leaves, and they diverge by repulsion. Touch
the electroscope, the leaves collapse. Withdraw your finger, and
withdraw afterward the excited body : the leaves then diverge with
the opposite electricity.

The simplest way of testing the quality of electricity is to charge
the electroscope with electricity of a known kind. If, on the approach
of the body to be tested, the leaves diverge still wider, the leaves and
the body are similarly electrified. The reason is obvious.

The wealth of knowledge, and of interest, which these experiments
involve, may be placed within any boy s reach by the wise expendi
ture of half a crown.

Once firmly possessed of the principle of induction and versed in
its application, the difiiculties of our subject will melt away before us.
In fact, our subsequent work will consist mainly in unraveling phe
nomena by the aid of this principle.

Without a knowledge of this principle we could render no account

164 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of the attraction of neutral bodies by our excited tubes. In reality,
the attracted bodies are not neutral : they are first electrified by in
fluence, and it is because they are thus electrified that they are at
tracted.

This is the, place to stamp upon your mind the following considera
tions: Neutral bodies, as just stated, are attracted, because they are
really converted into electrified bodies by induction. Suppose a body
to be feebly electrified positively, and that you bring your rubbed
glass-rod to bear upon the body. You clearly see that the induced
negative electricity may be strong enough to mask and overcome the
weak positive charge possessed by the body. We should thus have
two bodies electrified alike, attracting each other. This is the danger
against which I promised to warn yon in Section 10, where the test of
attraction was rejected.

We will now apply the principle to explain a very beautiful inven
tion, made known by the celebrated Volta in 1775.

SEC. 14. The Electrophorus. Cut a circle, T (Fig. 15), six inches
in diameter, out of sheet-zinc, or out of common tin. Heat it at its

FIG. 15.

centre by the flame of a spirit-lamp or of a candle. Attach to it there
a stick of sealing-wax, H, which, when the metal cools, is to serve as
an insulating handle. You have now the lid of the electrophorus. A
resinous surface, or what is simpler a sheet of vulcanized India-rubber,
P, or even of hot brown paper, will answer for the plate of the elec
trophorus.

Rub your " plate " with flannel, or whisk it briskly with a fox s
brush. It is thereby negatively electrified. Place the "lid" of your
electrophorus on the excited surface : it touches it at a few points only.
For the most part lid and plate are separated by a film of air.

The excited surface acts by induction across this film upon the lid,
attracting its positive and repelling its negative electricity. You
have in fact in the lid two layers of electricity, the lower one, which
is " bound," positive ; the upper one, which is " free," negative. Lift

LESSONS IN ELECTRICITY. ^5

the lid: the electricities flow again together; neutrality is restored,
and your lid fails to attract your balanced lath.

Once more place the lid upon the excited surface : touch it with
the finger. What occurs ? You ought to know. The free electricity,
which is negative, will escape through your body to the earth, leaving
the chained positive behind.

Now lift the lid by the handle : what is its condition ? Again I
say you ought to know. It is covered with free positive electricity.
If it be presented to the lath it will strongly attract it ; if it be pre
sented to the knuckle it will yield a spark.

A smooth half-crown or penny will answer for this experiment.
Stick to the coin an inch of sealing-wax as an insulating handle ; bring
it down upon the excited India-rubber : touch it, lift it, and present it
to your lath. The lath may be six or eight feet long, three inches
wide, and half an inch thick ; the little electrophorus-lid, formed by
the half-crown, will pull it round and round. The experiment is a
very impressive one.

Scrutinize your instrument still further. Let the end of a thin
wire rest upon the lid of your electrophorus, under a little weight if
necessary, and connect the other end of the wire with the electro
scope. As you lower the lid down toward the excited plate of the
electrophorus, what must occur ? The power of prevision now belongs
to you and you must exercise it. The repelled electricity will flow
over the leaves of the electroscope, causing them to diverge. Lift the
lid, they collapse. Lower and raise the lid several times, and observe
the corresponding rhythmic action of the electroscope-leaves.

A little knob of sealing-wax, ./?, coated with tin-foil ; or indeed any
knob with a conducting surface, stuck into the lid of the electropho
rus, will enable you to obtain a better spark. The reason of this will
immediately appear.

SEC. 15. Action of Points and Flames. The course of exposition
proceeds naturally from the electrophorus to the electrical machine.
But before we take up the machine we must make our minds clear re
garding the manner in which electricity diffuses itself over conductors,
and more especially over elongated and pointed conductors.

Rub your glass tube and draw it over an insulated sphere of metal
of wood covered with tin-foil, or indeed any other insulated spheri
cal conductor. Repeat the process several times, so as to impart a
good charge to the sphere. Touch the charged sphere with your car
rier, and transfer the charge to the electroscope. Note the diver
gence of the leaves. Discharge the electroscope, and repeat the ex
periment, touching, however, some other point of the sphere. The
electroscope shows the same amount of divergence. Even when the
greatest exactness of the most practised experimenter is brought
into play, the spherical conductor is found to be equally charged
at all points of its surface. You may figure the electric fluid as

1 66 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

a little ocean encompassing tbe sphere, and of the same depth every
where.

But supposing the conductor, instead of being a sphere, to be a
cube, an elongated cylinder, a cone, or a disk. The depth, or as it is
sometimes called the density of the electricity, will not be everywhere
the same. The corners of the cube will impart a stronger charge to
your carrier than the sides. The end of the cylinder will impart a
stronger charge than its middle. The edge of the disk will impart a
stronger charge than its flat surface. The apex or point of the cone
will impart a stronger charge than its curved surface or its base.

You can satisfy yourself of the truth of all this in a rough but cer
tain way, by charging, after the sphere, a turnip cut into the form of a
cube ; or a cigar-box coated with tin-foil ; a metal cylinder, or a wood
en one coated with tin-foil ; a disk of tin or of sheet-zinc ; a carrot or
parsnip with its natural shape improved so as to make it a sharp cone.
You will find the charge imparted to the carrier by the sharp corners
and points, to be greater than that communicated by gently-rounded
or flat surfaces. The difference may not be great, but it will be dis
tinct. Indeed, the egg laid on its side, as we have already used it in
our experiments on induction, yields a stronger charge from its ends
than from its middle.

Let me place before you an example of this distribution, taken
from the excellent work on " Frictional Electricity," by Prof. Riess,
of Berlin, who is probably the greatest living exponent of the sub
ject. Two cones, Fig. 16, are placed together base to base. Calling

FIG. 16.

the strength of the charge along the circular edge where the two
bases join each other 100, the charge at the apex of the blunter cone
is 133, and at the apex of the sharper one 202. The other numbers
give the charges taken from the points where they are placed. Fig.
17, moreover, represents a cube with a cone placed upon it. The
charge on the face of the cube being 1, the charges at the corners of
the cube and at the apex of the cone are given by the other numbers ;
they are all far in excess of the electricity on the flat surface.

Riess found that he could deduce with great accuracy the sharp
ness of a point, from the charge which it imparted. He compared in
this way the sharpness of various thorns with that of a fine English
sewing-needle. The following is the result: Euphorbia-thorn was
sharper than the needle ; gooseberry-thorn of the same sharpness as

LESSONS IN ELECTRICITY. 167

the needle; while cactus, blackthorn, and rose, fell more and more
behind the needle in sharpness. Calling, for example, the charge ob
tained from euphorbia 90, that obtained from the needle was 80, and
from the rose only 53.

FIG. 17.

Considering that the electricity is self-repulsive, and that it heaps
itself up upon a point in the manner here shown, you will have little
difficulty in conceiving that, when the charge of a conductor carrying
a point is sufficiently strong, the electricity will finally disperse itself
by streaming from the point.

The following experiments are theoretically important : Attach a
stick of sealing-wax to a small plate of tin, so that the stick may stand
upright. Heat a needle and insert it into the top of the stick of wax ;
on this needle mount a carrot. You have thus an insulated conduct
or. Stick into your carrot at one of its ends a sewing-needle, and
hold for an instant your rubbed glass rod in front of this needle with
out touching it. What occurs ? The negative electricity of the car
rot is discharged from the point against the glass rod. Remove the
rod, test the carrot: it is positively electrified.

And now for another experiment, not so easily made, but still cer
tain to succeed if you are careful. Excite your glass rod, turn your
needle away from it, and bring the rod near the other end of the car
rot. What occurs ? The positive electricity is now repelled to the
point, from which it will stream into the air. Remove the rod and
test the carrot : it is negatively electrified.

Again, turn the point toward you, and place in front of it a plate
of dry glass, wax, resin, shellac, paraffine, gutta-percha, or any other
insulator. Pass your rubbed glass tube once downward or upward,
the insulating plate being between the excited tube and the point.
The point will discharge against the insulating plate, which on trial
will be found negatively electrified. These experiments, I may say,
were discussed, and differently interpreted by the two philosophers,
during an important correspondence between Faraday and Prof.

Riess. 1

1 Philosophical Magazine," vol. xi., 1856.

i68

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

SEC. 16. The Electrical Machine. An electrical machine consists
of two principal parts: the insulator which is excited by friction,
and the " prime conductor."

The sulphur sphere of Otto von Guericke was, as already stated,
the first electrical machine. The hand was the rubber, and indeed it
long continued to be so. For the sulphur sphere Hauksbee and
Winckler substituted globes of glass. Boze, of Wittenberg (1741),
added the prime conductor, which was at first a tin tube supported
by resin, or suspended by silk. Soon afterward Gordon substituted
a glass cylinder for the globe. It was sometimes mounted vertically,
sometimes horizontally. Gordon so intensified his discharges as to
be able to kill small birds with them. In 1760 Planta introduced the
plate machine now commonly in use.

Mr. Cottrell has constructed for these lessons the small cylinder
machine shown in Fig. 18. The glass cylinder is about seven inches
long and four inches in diameter ; its cost is eighteen pence. Through
the cylinder passes tightly, as an axis, a piece of lath, rendered secure

FIG. 18.

by sealing-wax where it enters and quits the cylinder. G is a glass rod
supporting the conductor (7, which is a piece of lath coated with tin
foil. Into the lath is driven the series of pin-points, jP, P. The rub
ber, 72, is seen at the farther side of the cylinder, supported by the
upright lath, 72 , and caused to press against the glass. S is a flap
of silk. When the handle is turned sparks may be taken, or a Ley-
den-jar charged at the knob C. A plate machine is shown in Fig. 19.
P is the plate ; 72 and 72 , two rubbers which clasp the plate. A and
A are rows of points presented by the conductor, C. C C is an in
sulating rod of glass, intended to cut off the connection between the
conductor and the handle of the machine.

The prime conductor is thus charged: when the glass plate is

LESSONS IN ELECTRICITY.

169

turned, as it passes each rubber it is positively electrified. Facing
the electrified glass is the row of points midway between the two
rubbers. On these points the electrified glass acts by induction, at
tracting the negative and repelling the positive. In accordance with
the principles already explained the negative electricity streams from
the points against the excited glass, which passes on neutralized to
the next rubber, where it is again excited. Thus the prime conductor
is charged, not by the direct communication to it of positive elec
tricity, but by depriving it of its negative.

FIG. 19.

If, when the prime conductor is charged, you bring the knuckle
near it, the electricity passes from the conductor to the knuckle in
the form of a spark.

Take this spark while the machine is being turned, and then try
the effect of presenting the finger-ends, instead of the knuckle, to the
conductor. The spark falls exceedingly in brilliancy. Substitute for
the finger-ends a needle-point, you fail to get a spark at all. To ob
tain a good spark the electricity upon the prime conductor must reach
a sufficient density (or tension, as it is sometimes called). To secure
this, no points from which the electricity can stream must exist on the
conductor, or be presented to it. All parts of the conductor are
therefore carefully rounded off, sharp points and edges being avoided.

It is usual to attach to the conductor an electroscope, consisting
of an upright metal stem, A C\ Fig. 20, to which a straw with a pith-
ball, B, at its free end, is attached. The straw turns loosely upon a
pivot at C. The electricity passing from the conductor is diffused
over the whole electroscope, and the straw and stem, being both posi
tively electrified, repel each other. The straw, being the movable
body, flies away. The amount of the divergence is measured upon a
graduated arc.

170

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

If no point exist on the conductor, a single turn of the handle of
the machine suffices to cause the straw to stand out nearly at right
angles to the stem. If, on the contrary, a point be attached to the
conductor, you cannot produce a large divergence. The reason is,
that the electricity, as fast as it is generated, is dispersed by the
point. The same effect is observed when you present a point to the

FIG. 20.

conductor. The conductor acts by induction upon the point, causing
the negative electricity to stream from it against the conductor,
which is thus neutralized almost as fast as it is charged. Flames and
glowing embers act like points ; they also rapidly discharge electricity.

The electricity escaping from a point or flame into the air renders
the air self-repulsive. The consequence is that, when the hand is
placed over a point mounted on the prime conductor of a machine in
good action, a cold blast is distinctly felt. Dr. Watson noticed this
blast from a flame placed on an electrified conductor, while Wilson
noticed the blast from a point. Jallabert and the Abbe Nollet also
observed and described the influence of points and flames. The blast
is called the " electric wind." Wilson moved bodies by its action ;
Faraday caused it to depress the surface of a liquid ; Hamilton em
ployed the reaction of the electric wind to make pointed wires rotate.
The " wind " was also found to promote evaporation.

Hamilton s apparatus is called the " electric mill." Make one for
yourself thus : Place two straws S $, S $ , Fig. 21, about eight inches
long, across each other at a right angle. Stick them together at their
centres by a bit of sealing-wax. Pass a fine wire through each straw
and bend it where it issues from the straw, so as to form a little
pointed arm perpendicular to the straw, and from half an inch to
three-quarters of an inch long. It is easy, by means of a bit of cork
or sealing-wax, to fix the wire so that the little bent arms shall point
not upward or downward, but sideways, when the cross is horizontal.
The points of sewing-needles may also be employed for the bent arms.
A little bit of straw is stuck into the cross at the centre, to form a
cap. This slips over a sewing-needle, JVJ supported by a stick of

LESSONS IN ELECTRICITY.

171

sealing-wax, A. Connect the sewing-needle with the machine, and
turn. A wind of a certain force is discharged from every point, and
the cross is urged round with the same force in the opposite direction.
You might easily, of course, so arrange the points that the wind
from some of them would neutralize the wind from others. But the
little pointed arms are to be so bent that the reaction in every case
shall not oppose, but add itself to, the others.

n

FIG. 21.

The following experiments will yield you important information
regarding the action of points : Stand, as you have so often done be
fore, upon a board supported by four warm tumblers. Hold a small
sewing-needle, with its point defended by the forefinger of your right
hand, toward your Dutch metal electroscope. Place your left hand
on the prime conductor of your machine. Let the handle be turned
by a friend or an assistant : the leaves of the electroscope open out a
little. Uncover the needle-point by the removal of your finger : the
leaves at once fly violently apart.

Mount a stout wire upright on the conductor of your machine ; or
support the wire by sealing-wax, gutta-percha, or glass, at a distance
from the conductor. Connect both by a fine wire. Bend your stout
wire into a hook, and hang from it *a tassel composed of many strips
of light paper. Work the machine. Electricity from the conductor
flows over the tassel, and the strips diverge. Hold your closed fist
toward the tassel, the strips of paper stretch toward it. Hold the
needle, defended by the finger, toward the tassel : atctration also en
sues. Uncover the needle without moving the hand ; the strips re
treat as if blown away by a wind.

And now repeat Du Fay s experiment which led to the discovery
of two electricities. Excite your glass tube, and hold it in readiness,
while a friend, or an assistant, liberates a real gold or silver leaf in

172

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the air. Bring the tube near the leaf: it plunges toward the tube,
stops suddenly, and then flies away. You may chase it round the
room for hours without permitting it to reach the ground. The leaf
is first acted upon inductively by the tube. It is powerfully attracted
for a moment, and rushes toward the tube. But from its thin edges
and corners the negative electricity streams forth, leaving the leaf
positively electrified. Repulsion then sets in, because tube and leaf
are electrified alike. The retreat of the tassel in the last experiment
is due to a similar cause.

There is also a discharge of positive electricity into the air from
the more distant portions of the gold-leaf, to which that electricity
is repelled. Both discharges are accompanied by an electric wind.
It is possible to give the gold-leaf a shape which shall enable it to
float securely in the air by the reaction of the two winds issuing from
its opposite ends. This is Franklin s experiment of the Golden Fish.
It was first made with the charged conductor of the electrical machine.

FIG. 22

M. Srtsczek revived it in a more convenient form, using instead of the
conductor the knob of a charged Leyden-jar. You may walk round
a room with the jar in your hand; the "fish" will obediently follow
in the air an inch or two, or even three inches, from the knob. (See
A _Z?, Fig. 22.) Even a hasty motion of the jar will not shake it
away.

Well-pointed lightning-conductors, when acted on by a thunder
cloud, behave in the same way. The opposite electricity streams out
from them against the cloud.

Franklin saw this with great clearness, and illustrated it with
great ingenuity. The under-side of a thunder-cloud, when viewed

HINTS FOR THE SICK-ROOM. 173

horizontally, he observed to be ragged, composed of fragments one
below the other, sometimes reaching near the earth. These he re
garded as so many stepping-stones which assist in conducting the
stroke of the cloud. To represent these by experiment, he took two
or three locks of fine loose cotton, tied them in a row, and hung
them from his prime conductor. When this was excited, the locks
stretched downward toward the earth ; but, by presenting a sharp
point erect under the lowest bunch of cotton, it shrunk upward to
that above it, nor did the shrinking cease till all the locks had
retreated to the prime conductor itself. "May not," says Franklin,
" the small electrified clouds, whose equilibrium with the earth is so
soon restored by the point, rise up to the main body, and by that
means occasion so large a vacancy that the grand cloud cannot strike
in that place ? "

HINTS FOR THE SICK-ROOM.

-YTT~HEN a woman thinks of making deliberate choice of the pro-
W fession of a sick-nurse, she can, of course, take into careful
consideration if her character and temperament are or are not suited
for so arduous and trying an avocation. If she is a person of excit
able nature, and possessed of but little self-control, she can be wisely
counseled to give up the idea of a life for which she is so thoroughly
unfit ; but no peculiarities of character or temperament can exempt a
woman from being called upon by the plain voice of duty, at one time
or other of her life, to take her stand by the bedside of one dear to
her, and soothe as best she may many a weary hour of restlessness
and pain.

Very few, indeed, are the women who escape this rule most have
to take upon themselves the burden of attendance in a sick-room
and perhaps there are few subjects upon which the generality of
women are so well-intentioned, and yet so ignorant. With the very
best and kindest meaning in the world, attention bestowed upon a
suffering person may be productive of more discomfort than comfort
to the patient, and endless annoyance to the physician, just because
the zealous, but alas! untrained and undisciplined volunteer <
everything the wrong way.

Again, from a mistaken and unreal idea of true delicacy and
finement, many women shrink from ever seeing or learning anything
about suffering or sorrow ; and so, when the inevitable fate brings
the si-hts and sounds of pain, the dreadful realities of death, cruelly
home to them, they are paralyzed by terror, and useless, nay, worse
than useless to those most dear to them. Even as I write, si
stances rise before my mind of a lack of moral courage, an utter un-

174 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

possibility of self-command, that has led the mother to flee from the
bedside of her dying child, the wife to turn away from the failing
sight that yearns to gaze upon her face while life yet lingers ! The
contemplation of pain could not be borne, because the mind was weak
ened and enervated by a selfish habit of yielding to the dislike Of
bravely facing anything disagreeable. Let all true women train
themselves to possess self-control, calmness, and patient courage ; let
them strive to acquire a certain amount of knowledge of the cares
and duties of the sick-room ; let them not shrink from hearing the
details of this or that form of suffering and disease, and gladly and
readily offer help (when they rightly and safely can) outside the
bounds of their own immediate home circle. Let them rejoice in any
fitting opportunity that may come in their way of perfecting them
selves in this, the highest and holiest of woman s duties, so that when
their own time of trial comes they may not fail !

Taking it for granted that there are many who will gladly take
a few plain and practical hints on this subject, I shall condense the
result of a somewhat long and wide experience into a short space.

And, first: It is in things which of themselves appear trifling, and
even insignificant, that the comfort of a sick-room is made or marred.
For instance, an energetic and amiably-intentioned person places a
cold pillow beneath the shoulders of a patient suffering from pneumo
nia, that is, inflammation of the lungs ; a fit of coughing, perhaps a
restless night, is the result. Five minutes warming of the pillow at
the fire would have prevented all this mischief, and even conduced to
sleep.

Dress, again, is a matter of great importance in a sick-room, and
here I must enter a protest against that very common practice of the
amateur sick-nurse making a " guy " of herself. I really have seen
such startling and unpleasant costumes donned "for the occasion," as
seemed to me enough to cause delirium in the patient, if long contem
plated shawls, and dressing-gowns, and wraps, of such an obsolete
and awful character, that the shadow of the watcher, cast upon the
wall by the dim light of the night-lamp, must form a horrible " old
granny," and be by no means a pleasing reflection to meet a sick
man s eyes, as he wakes weak and confused from an opiate-won
sleep !

The best dress for a sick-room is plain black for the simple rea
son that no stain shows upon it an old silk is the most economical,
but silk rustles, and is therefore objectionable. Black lustre is very
serviceable not made long enough to trail, upset chairs, and get
under the doctor s feet ; and not having hanging sleeves, but fitting
close and neat at the wrist, so as to be finished off by nice white linen
cuffs. (I have seen a hanging sleeve catch on some projecting point
of chair or table, and convert a glass of egg-flip into a " douche " ex
ternally applied, swamping the patient in a yellow sea, besides send-

HINTS FOR THE SICK-ROOM. l?s

ing her into hysterics.) A habit of moving quietly about the room,
and yet not treading " on tiptoe " and making every board in the
floor creak its loudest, is also very advisable ; and nothing can be
better by way of foot-gear than those soft, warm felt boots now
so common ; they both keep the nurse s feet from becoming cold,
and make the least possible sound in moving about. Of course the
manner of speaking in a sick-room is all-important. Oh, the horror of
that dreadful " pig s whisper," which penetrates to the inmost recesses
of the room, and wakes the sleeping patient as surely as the banging
of a door !

I call to mind a case of fever a very bad case, in which sleep was
the one desideratum almost the only hope. The sufferer had fallen
into a doze the terrible throbbing of the arteries in the bared throat
seemed a little less rapid the fire that was burning life away raged
a little less fiercely but, some idiot peeped in through a half-closed
door, and with horrible contortions of the visage, intended to express
extreme caution, whispered in blood-chilling tones, " How is he
getting on now ? "

In an instant the patient had raised himself in bed, the poor hot
hands were thrown out to ward off he knew not what the filmy eyes
stared wildly round the parched tongue faltered : " What is it ?
Where is it ? " And for hours the weary head tossed from side to
side, and meaningless words fell on the ears of those who watched
and waited, and almost feared to hope. And yet it was meant in kind
ness !

In some of the most severe diseases, such as cholera and diphtheria,
the patient is often intensely conscious of all that is passing around
him. The wish to know everything that is said and done is extreme,
and nothing excites a patient so much as anything like whispering
and mystery. The natural voice, only so much lowered as to be per
fectly distinct, is, then, the proper tone for a sick-room. If silence is
needed, let it be complete, and no whispering permitted either in the
room, or, worse still, outside the door.

And now I must say a few words on a disagreeable but yet most
important subject. In any case where operative surgery is necessary,
it cannot be too strongly insisted upon that no one shall remain
present whose calmness and self-control are not a certainty. I re
member well a delicate and difficult operation having to be performed
not a painful one, but where success mainly depended on the per
fect stillness of the patient. Scarcely had the first slight incision
been made, when the room resounded with the moans and cries, not
of the sufferer, but the friend who had kindly come to support her
through the ordeal ! With many a sob, and choke, and gurgle, the
frien(f was assisted from the room, and then all went well enough;
but great delay, and much increase of nervousness on the part of the
patient, naturally resulted.

176 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

One of the many very eminent surgeons of whom America can
boast once told me that on the occasion of performing a most formi
dable operation, in which promptitude was a vital necessity, he saw,
at a moment when seconds were precious, a friend, who had insisted
on remaining present, suddenly turn deadly pale, and fall fainting on
the floor, in uncomfortably close proximity to the chloroformed pa
tient. Dr. B stooped down, and quietly rolled the insensible

individual into a corner of the room, where he enjoyed undisturbed
repose until such time as some one had time to " bring him to."

Thus it may be seen that any one who is in the least nervous, and
cannot be certain of his own powers of self-command, acts with
truer kindness in remaining absent from such scenes, than by becom
ing an added source of anxiety, where there is so much already of the
gravest character. If, however, a woman has the moral courage to
face such trials calmly, and without flurry if she can do simply what
she is told, and nothing more if she can hold her tongue wholly
dismiss herself from her own mind, concentrating all her attention on
the patient, she may be of untold help and comfort. On the other
hand, a sick-nurse who asks the doctor endless questions who pre
sumes in her ignorance to criticise his treatment who is spasmodic
in her sympathy, and ejaculatory in her lamentations, is pestilent in
a sick-room, and should, if possible, be got rid of at any cost.

But as well as the nervous and excitable nurse, there is another
species of the genus against whom I would warn any one who in the
least values his own comfort, and that is, the person who insists upon
" helping you " to nurse some very severe case, and never ceases assur
ing you that she " keeps up splendidly at the time, but afterward ; "
and then comes an ominous shake of the head, which is a ghastly in
timation of what a time you will have of it with her, when what
she is pleased to call the " reaction " sets in. Nothing can be more
aggravating than to contemplate such an individual, and look forward
to the " breaking-down " which she assures you is inevitable, and which
you feel assured will come just when you and everybody else are tired
out with nursing the real sufferer, and when you want to go to bed,
and sleep your sleep out. The very idea of having to put hot-water
bottles to her feet, and mustard-poultices to her side, and cooling
lotions to her aching brow, and watch her acting the martyr (the
while you are wishing her at Jericho, or some other equally hard-to-
get-back-from place), is not a pleasant anticipation, as you sit opposite
to her through a long night of watching, and she tells you, with a
melancholy yet vainglorious countenance, how she shall " pay for this
afterward." But she treats with scorn your suggestion that she should
go to bed indeed, she would be bitterly disappointed if she might
not immolate herself and you. This sort of thing is what I call " self
ish unselfishness," a kind of self-sacrifice that is always acting as its
own bill-poster.

HINTS FOR THE SICK-ROOM. i 77

But there is one kind of nervousness which I do not think meets
with sufficient consideration, and that is the unconquerable fear which
you will find some people have of any disease that is infectious.
Now, I think this sort of fear is far more constitutional than mental,
and it appears to me most uncharitable to speak of those who are thus
nervous by temperament as " so frightened," etc. Depend upon it, if
any one has a great dread of infection, he is far better away from the
chance of it. If I heard a person express a great and overpowering
dread of small-pox, cholera, fever, or diphtheria, I should do all in my
power to prevent that person going near any case of the kind, because
I should be morally certain of the result. As a rule, I believe that
those who are perfectly fearless are comparatively safe ; and there is
no truer test of perfect freedom from nervous dread than the fact of
being able to sleep at once, quietly and naturally, and without the
mind being obliged to dwell upon the work of the day. The best
cholera-nurse I ever saw used to tell me that she often sat down in the
corner of a room, on the floor, and "slept right off" for half an hour
at a time, either day or night, just as such opportunity for rest pre
sented itself. But of course there are exceptions to all rules ; and one
of the most devoted and the most fearless in attendance on the sick,
during a terrible epidemic, died just when the worst of the battle
seemed over.

But to return to some of those " trifles," the knowledge of which
is so needful to those who would try to fulfill well the duties of an
amateur sick-nurse.

When active personal care of a sick person is undertaken, the fin
ger-nails should be kept very short. I have seen a long nail tear open
a blister, and expose a raw surface, causing great pain. For the same
reason, all removable rings should be taken off; and any ornaments
that hang loose and make a jingling noise are best dispensed with,
as they irritate and annoy a sensitive patient.

It seems to me that this very unpretending paper will be hardly
complete without a few words as to the diet that is best for any one
acting as sick-nurse in a long and trying case.

One great point is, to let no silly notions of sentiment prevent you
making a practice of taking substantial and regular meals ; and, when
you have to sit up all night, be sure and have food at hand, and never
go more than three hours without eating. Now, I am going to say
what I know many will highly disapprove of, and it is this: when
you are nursing a long and anxious case, and you want to be able to
" stay " to the end, avoid all stimulants. There is nothing you can do
such hard work upon, there is nothing that will support you in long-
continued watching and fatigue, like good, well-made coffee. Stimu
lants only give a temporary excitement, that passes itself off as
strength. They injure that clearness of thought, that perfect quie
tude and recollectedness which are so essential to the good sick-nurse ;

VOL. IX. 12

178 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and they tend more than anything else to that miserable " breaking-
down afterward" of which I have already spoken. Chambers^
Journal.

THE POLAK GLACIERS.

BY C. C. MEERIMAN.

II.

THE element of all others most sensitive to the changes and im
pulses of every kind of force is the earth s atmosphere. It is in
a state of constant disturbance, and seems to be obedient to no laws
or regularity. Yet, unstable as the winds appear, they are really, in
their general movements, among the most orderly and effective agents
in Nature. This is shown in a remarkable manner by their agency in
impelling the great ocean-streams, and therefore their important in
fluence on glacial phenomena. In order to make this evident, it will
be necessary to explain in brief the general laws of their circulation.

The earth turns on its axis from west to east, and with it rotates
daily the enormous envelope of the atmosphere. The velocity of rota
tion at the equator is something over 1,000 miles an hour; at thirty
degrees distance it is about 150 miles an hour less. In higher lati
tudes it is still less; and at the poles nothing. Therefore, whenever
the air moves north or south on the surface of the earth, it will
carry with it a less or greater velocity of rotation than the places
it passes over, and will turn into an easterly or westerly wind,
according as it approaches or recedes from the equator. In the
region of the sun s greatest heat, the air, rarefied and lightened,
is continually rising, and cooler currents come in on both sides to
take the place of the ascending volume. As these side-currents come
from a distance of about thirty degrees from the equator, they have,
at starting, an eastward velocity many miles an hour less than the
localities they will eventually reach. Consequently they will appear
to lag behind in all the course of their progress to the equator that
is, they will have a westerly motion united with their north and south
movements. These are the great trade-winds, blowing constantly
from the northeast on this side, and the southeast on the other side
of the equator.

But the heated air, which has risen in immense volumes in the
tropics, spreads out to the north and the south in the upper regions,
passes entirely over the trade-winds, and comes down to the earth in
the temperate zones. It, however, continues to have the velocity
toward the east which it acquired at the equator, and, when it strikes
the slower-moving latitudes, it will be traveling much faster than the
regions it comes down upon. Hence the westerly winds that prevail
almost constantly in the middle latitudes.

THE POLAR GLACIERS. i 79

This is the normal order of the wind-currents, and that which
would prevail with nearly perfect regularity if the world were a uni
form globe of water or of land, and equally heated on both sides of
the equator. But the continents, and particularly mountain eleva
tions, produce great disturbances unequal rainfalls and ever-varying
atmospheric pressures. When also, from any cause, one of the trade-
winds, notably the southern, is increased in its violence, so as to push
a tornado-tongue across the dividing line, into the opposite system of
winds, there is started one of those cyclones, or great circular storms,
which ravage the tropics and whirl through the temperate zones,
finally exhausting themselves in the higher latitudes to the eastward.

The southern hemisphere is at the present time colder than the
northern, owing primarily to the fact that the winters there are eight
days longer than the northern, and the sun, during those seasons,
about 3,000,000 miles farther from the earth than during the north
ern winters. The difference of temperature, therefore, between the
warm air that rises at the equator and the cold air that comes in
from the south is greater than that on the north side. And, as it is
difference of temperature that produces the whole movement of the
air-currents, of course the greater strength of that movement must be
on the southern side. Hence the larger share of the equatorial cur
rent passes over to the south, and the southern trades are much the
strongest. In accordance with this theory, it is a matter of observa
tion that the southern trade-winds reach across the equator and into
the northern hemisphere in some places ten to fifteen degrees.

In obedience to and perfect accord with this great system of winds,
the waters of the oceans move. The strong southeast trades blow up
from Southern Africa, cross the equator, and drive the waters of the
South Atlantic into the Caribbean Sea. The lighter northeast trades,
blowing between North Africa and the West Indies, assist and give
direction to this movement, which finally impels through the Straits
of Florida a tide of tropical waters a hundred times greater than the
outflow of all the rivers in the world. This great flood of thermal
waters spreads out in the Northern Atlantic, imparting to Europe a
climate corresponding to countries twenty degrees south of it on
this sid3 of the ocean. There is, of course, an under-current from
the Arctics to the equator, exactly compensating this enormous
northward flow of the surface-waters. The same process and effect
are repeated in the Pacific Ocean; and the great Japan Stream robs
the southern hemisphere, for the benefit of our Pacific States, only
in a degree less than does the Gulf Stream for the benefit of Europe.

A change in the relative strength of the trade-winds, such that the
northeast trades would blow across the equator into the southern
hemisphere, would entirely reverse the course of the warm ocean-
currents, and carry to the southern continents the heat abstracted
from the northern. Such a change in the course of ocean-streams has

180 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

unquestionably followed every change in the glaciation of the hemi
spheres from astronomical causes. The winds and the water-currents
have always helped to increase the difference in temperature which a
considerable eccentricity of the earth s orbit must always have pro
duced between the northern and southern halves of our globe. It
matters but little which of the two the ocean-currents or the astro
nomical causes have produced the greater effect, since it is certain
that they have ever cooperated in one and the same direction.

On all the tropical seas, between the terminal lines of the two
trade-winds, there is what is called the belt of calms, a tract averag
ing from 300 to 500 miles wide, in which, whatever winds there
may be, are exceedingly light and unreliable. It is here, as we
have seen, that the air and vapor, heated by the vertical rays of the
sun, are continually rising and spreading outward in the upper regions.
It is a complete dividing line between the climates of the two hemi
spheres. One may be frigidly cold, while the other is highly heated ;
the only difference being that the calm belt would be removed farther
into the warmer hemisphere. It now ranges from five to ten degrees
of latitude on this side of the equator. In this belt of ascending air-
currents is carried up the greater part of the moisture which after
ward descends as rain or snow far from the equator. Whatever
excess of solar heat there may be on the tropics is here absorbed in
evaporating water. To vaporize a pound of water, according to Prof.
Tyndall, requires as much heat as to. raise fifty-five pounds of ice-
water to the boiling-point. It is manifest, therefore, that there must
have been, during the glacial periods, an enormous amount of sun-
power somewhere on the face of the earth to have supplied the vapor
that buried one zone and half of another beneath a solid ocean of ice.

These facts effectually do away with all the theories, except the
astronomical, which have been advanced by physicists to account for
glacial phenomena : one, that our solar system has, during certain
ages, passed through a colder region of space ; another, that the sun
in glacial times for some cause failed to supply his usual quantity of
heat ; and, as a consequence of either, that the glaciation of both hemi-
st)heres occurred at the same time. Equatorial heat is as necessary
to a glacial period as polar cold. The one transforms the waters to
vapor and elevates it to the cloud-spheres, while the other sends in
the cold winds beneath, which compel the vapors to come over to the
frozen side and build up the glacier.

The system of the stratified rocks has been called the great geo
logical book, with its uncounted leaves overlying each other. Now,
as it is a part of the glacial theory that each of these leaves or strata,
at least in greater part, was the work of a glacial period, it is im
portant for us to examine closely and particularly the course and
effect of one of these great cycles of 21,000 years or thereabouts.
We will take, for example, that one of the Post-tertiary glacial which

THE POLAR GLACIERS. 181

was of the greatest extent and severity. Ten cycles back about
210,000 years ago one of the periods of maximum eccentricity had
just commenced, the highest since four times that number of years.
The perigee, or nearest approach to the sun, happened then as now, a
few days after the winter solstice of our half of the world. It was
the great summer of the northern hemisphere. But over the south
ern hemisphere at this time, almost if not quite to the tropics, ex
tended one vast sheet of ice. It reached far into Brazil, it covered
Southern Africa, and lapped over on Australia. The marks are all
there, scored on the solid rocks, to show how it crept up the south
ern slopes of the hills, and how far it pushed its icy arms. In South
America at least there is ample proof that the great glacier spanned
the southern ocean to reach it ; for the furrows on the rock-beds of
Patagonia are from the pole toward the equator, whereas in any other
case they would have been from the mountains to the sea. With
such a state of things at the southern end of the world, with proba
bly miles .in depth of ice and sea in its higher latitudes, there could
have been but little water left for the opposite northern regions.
What is called the Atlantic-cable plateau, between Newfoundland
and Ireland, was very possibly the north shore of the Atlantic Ocean ;
and probably no considerable bodies of water existed anywhere north
of that parallel. The present continents were all mountain table
lands, far from the vicinity of evaporating surfaces. Like all such
elevated regions not exposed to specially moist winds, they were
doubtless dry and arid deserts. However warm may have been the cli
mate of the north temperate and arctic zones during this their great
summer, their great elevation and the want of any kind of water-sup
ply must have made them barren of all forms of animal or vegetable
life. Consequently there would be, as is notably the case, but few if
any traces of this part of the great season left in the geological rec
ords, at least above the present seas.

Five thousand years pass, and the perigee has advanced to meet
the vernal equinox. The spring season is now the shortest of all ;
but, as the autumnal is correspondingly lengthened, the average cli
mate is about that of the present time. But it is the season of the
great thaw the breaking-up time of the southern hemisphere, and
the waters are returning to fill the northern ocean-beds. Impercep
tibly a permanent white cap begins to fasten itself to the heights of
the boreal zone, to extend its outline, and to increase its depth. Slow
ly the lands are being submerged and the oceans broaden out, till
there comes a time when land and water are equalized in the two
hemispheres, and the climates are substantially alike.

Another 5,000 years pass, and the perigee now coincides with
the summer solstice of the northern hemisphere. This is the po
sition there of greatest cold : the winters are twenty-eight days lon
ger than the summers ; and the extra days are in great part those

i8z THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of the briefest sunshine. Besides this, the earth is 10,500,000 miles
farther from the sun in winter than in summer. According to the
most careful calculations, the temperature of extreme northern re
gions would be lowered 50, and the mean annual range would be
fully 60 below zero. This in all probability would carry the isother
mal line of Labrador, South Greenland, and Iceland (32 Fahr.),down
to Charleston and the Gulf of Mexico. The late Prof. Agassiz found
ice-marks as far south as this, though it can hardly be supposed that
the permanent glacier extended so far. There are, however, abun
dant signs of the permanent ice-layer all over the State of New York,
and both east and west of it. The same distinguished authority was
wont to claim in his lectures that all the beautiful north and south
lakes of Western New York the Cayuga, the Seneca, the Canandai-
gua were ploughed out of the solid rock and walled around with their
clay and gravel hills by advancing and retreating glaciers. The rocky
summits of New England are found to be grooved and scored all over
their sides and tops with markings always in nearly a north and south
direction. They have been traced on Mount Washington to within
300 feet of the highest point. There can be no doubt that at the time
we are writing of, about 200,000 years ago, there was one solid ice-
stratum of immense thickness Agassiz said from two to three miles
slowly being pushed from the northward by the power of freez
ing water, over all of New England and the lake States.

Again the perigee proceeds to meet the autumnal equinox. The
winter and the summer seasons have again become equal in length ;
and the sun is just half its time on the north side of the equator. The
great. ice-shroud is now being gradually withdrawn. Where it abuts
on deep waters, enormous icebergs are broken off and float away to
the south, carrying bowlders and soil and whatever it may have picked
up in its slow course down to the sea. Where it terminates in shallow
waters or on the land, its effect is to produce such an arrangement
and diversity of soils and such a peculiar outline of country as no
other agency could ever have brought about. So different is the na
ture and work of the great polar glacier from anything with which we
are familiar at the present day, that it has seemed to me to require a
few words of more particular description.

As is well known, the glacier is an accumulation of many winters
snows consolidated by pressure into a clear blue ice. In this condi
tion it manifests the peculiar property of viscous bodies it is in con
tinual slow motion in the direction of least resistance. Whether it is
by the expansion produced by the repeated thawing and freezing of
water in its interstices, as Agassiz claimed, or whether by the press
ure of the mass and glacial regelation, which is the constant freezing
together of ice-surfaces in contact, after breaking under unequal press
ures, or crushing against obstacles, which is the theory of Prof.
Tyndall, or whether by both causes combined, certain it is that large

THE POLAR GLACIERS. !8 3

bodies of ice not only flow like a heavy lava-stream, conforming them
selves to all inequalities of the surface, but they also scrape along in
solid mass, as if pushed by some irresistible force from behind.
Mountain-glaciers show both motions. But the great polar glacier,
extending over comparatively level surfaces, seems to have been
pushed bodily outward from its fixed polar base, and to have moved
almost entirely under the mighty impulse of expansion. The parallel
scratches and furrows* which, in our hemisphere, mount straight up the
north sides of mountains ; the worn and rounded appearance of those
sides and of the summits, as compared with the rough, unsmoothed
southern slopes ; the erratic blocks, or some peculiar specimens like
the native copper of Lake Superior, carried almost directly south for
scores or hundreds of miles, over heights, and even over arms of the
sea all show conclusively that the great glacier pushed its meridional
course over all obstacles and to long distances.

Imbedding in its under surface the grit and gravel on which it
froze, this mountain grindstone grated and ground the solid rocks
over which it passed into the various materials of soil. Sand and
gravel were the products from granitic rocks and sandstones, clay
from the slates and shales, and loam from the softer lime-rocks. But
the most striking effects which the polar glacier produced were the
long ridges of gravel and bowlder-clay hills which it scraped up as it
advanced, and left at the end of its journey, or at each halting-place
of its retreat. For it must be borne in mind that the glacier was still
pushing southward all the time that it was, on the whole, retreating.
These terminal moraines are either the promiscuous gatherings of clay
and bowlders and earths of all kinds, or, if they have been subjected
to the sorting influence of moving waters, they are gravel hills with
sandy bases, and clay flats extending usually to the southward of
them. They run in somewhat parallel courses easterly and westerly,
sometimes hundreds of miles. Great numbers of these concentric
ridges may be counted in Western New York, between the long Lake
Ontario ridge and the lake hills of the south part of the State. Sev
eral cross the New England States, one running along the coast of
Maine, and westerly through the White Mountains. In addition to
these are the lateral moraines, running in an opposite direction.
These were, some of them, pushed out at the sides by outstretching
arms of the glacier ; others were formed by streams running down
through breaks or fiords in the melting -ice-sheet. So extensive and
so marked are the traces of the great polar glacier over all middle
latitudes, both north and south, that it may truly be called the great
landscape-gardener of the temperate zones.

But it is natural to conclude that, if there has been one glacial era
caused by astronomical cycles, there must also have been others in
earlier geological times. And, as we turn back the pages of the great
earth-book, we find therein recorded the evidences of the vicissitudes

184 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

of climate which we thus anticipate, but, if we mistake not, in contin
ually-lessening force and extent the farther back we go. For, long
ages previous to the recent glacial epoch, through all the Tertiary era,
the fossil plants and animals indicate the prevalence of a warm and
genial climate over the greater part of the globe. Then come the
chalk-beds of the Cretaceous period, in which are frequently found
water-worn blocks of granite and aggregations of pebbles, proving
that then, as now, the iceberg floated down from the north over seas
that were quietly depositing the chalk-shells. Still older is found a
long series of secondary strata, the Oolite, the Lias, and the Trias,
which were deposited in at least sub-tropical climates. They are the
burial-grounds of the enormous saurian reptiles that once had an age
all to themselves in the world s chronology. Their remains have
been found within a thousand miles of the north-pole, thus proving
that warm seas covered every zone.

Between the great divisions of Secondary and Primary in geology,
there lies a stratum found only in the higher half of the latitudes, and
known as the Permian or New Red Sandstone. The scanty life-forms
found in it, and the coarse grit and angular bowlders of which it is
composed, evince the well-known glacial action. Geologists generally
think that there elapsed between these great divisions a very long
period of time in which, excepting the sandstone, but little was done
one way or another to build up the crust of the earth or leave a mark
in its records. This doubtless indicates periods of very small eccen
tricity. Such periods did occur, according to Mr. Croll s calculations,
immediately before and after the great eccentricity of 850,000 years
ago, in which we may perhaps conjecture the New Red Sandstone to
have been formed.

Previous to this age were the long Carboniferous periods, during
all of which a warm and moist climate prevailed over all lands that
have yet been explored. Below the coal-measures are found again
the grits and bowldery conglomerates of the Old Red Sandstone,
which, with great paucity of organic remains, would imply the alter
nations of somewhat glacial climates. The Silurian, Cambrian, and
Laurentian systems preceded the Old Red in the order named, and
reach back to the dawn of life on the earth. These formations are
of vast thickness, and were deposited at the bottom of warm seas in
all parts of the world.

It cannot be denied that, as we go back in the geologic records,
we find more and more the evidences of greater heat and a more
equable climate. It is certain that the astronomical relations which
we have pointed out the revolutions of the orbital points and the
alternations of great and small eccentricity have never ceased to
exist Therefore, if the world had been subjected to only the same
fiolar heat in ancient as in recent periods, there must have been re
peated glacial epochs ; and we should find the bowlder, and the un-

THE POLAR GLACIERS. 185

sorted drift, and the scratched and polished rocks, all through the stone
presentations. But very few, if any, such evidences have been found.

Again, for a warm and exuberant climate to extend into the arctic
zone, there was necessary one of those great summers of considerable
eccentricity, without the excessive drain age, which an unusually large
accumulation of ice in the opposite hemisphere would necessitate.
Each summer cycle of coal forests, or of reptile monsters, implies,
not only a long visit, and a high evaporating power of the sun, but
also the addition, to the opposite polar regions, of a weight of ice
only sufficient to draw the waters from a small part of the low and
flat lands of the warmer hemisphere. We have seen that periods of
warm, perhaps even tropical climates in polar latitudes, intervened
between the great winters of the last glacial epoch. But they have
left scarcely a trace in the strata. They were the nearest approach
possible, with the sun-power of recent times, to the conditions which of
old brought out such a profusion of animal and vegetable life. But
the only result in the later periods was, that the earth was unbal
anced. All the waters were either turned into ice, or were following
after it toward one of the poles. One side of the world was a frozen
waste, while the other was a burning waste.

I think we cannot avoid the conclusion that the sun shone with a
far intenser power on the Carboniferous swamps and the Oolitic shoals
than on the gravel-hills of the Drift ; that the oceans of early times
were wider and warmer than now, and circulated more freely between
the tropics and the polar seas ; and that the heated and moisture-
laden atmosphere retained the heat and equalized the temperature
between the equator and the poles far more than at present.

With these conditions, that is, with a greater sun-power and a
considerable eccentricity of the earth s orbit, I can conceive a rational
explanation, that which I have not yet seen in the books, of the for
mation of the coal-layers, alternated as they always are with marine
deposits. These alternations are sometimes very numerous. There
are as many as sixty distinct veins of considerable thickness, one
over another, in the coal-mines of South Wales, as also of Nova Sco
tia. There must have been, in that case, sixty periods of dry land,
each of sufficient duration to grow many forests, and each followed
by a long-continued submergence, in order that each layer should be
come fossilized, and buried beneath a shale or a limestone, which
could only have formed in the depths of a quiet sea. The books say
there were so many upheavals, and a like number of subsidences, alter
nating with each other. As if Old Earth had bent her back, for her
load of pit-coal, threescore times among the Welsh hills, and again as
many more at Halifax. It is a far more reasonable explanation, that
each considerable layer of coal indicates a cycle of long summers,
and the withdrawal of a moderate depth of the oceans from one hemi
sphere to the other, by reason of moderate accumulations of ice in

i86 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

polar latitudes, and the return, again, of the waters after 10,500
years. In this way, and in no other that I can conceive of, can
be fairly explained the constant mixture and alternations of terres
trial and marine relics, all through the fossil-bearing formations,
and the hundreds, if not thousands of different and distinct strata
which are found lying one above another.

Whoever, even cursorily, studies the phenomena of geology, must
be impressed with the enormous length of time it has taken to arrange
the terrestrial substructure, and prepare it for the higher forms of
life. Even the comparatively recent period of the Bowlder Clay,
which laid out the grounds of the present area of civilization, dates
back for its commencement, as we have seen, probably 200,000
years. If it might be assumed that the Permian or New Red
Sandstone was formed during the next previous period of extraor
dinary eccentricity, which was 850,000 years ago, then the Devo
nian or Old Red Sandstone would come in, very appropriately, at
the next anterior era of extraordinary focal distance, which occurred
2,500,000 years back. The Carboniferous period, which came be
tween these two, could not have been formed in less than 1,000,000
years, as most geologists concede ; and by calculations previously
indicated, those sixty Welsh layers of coal, if there are that many,
divided oif by marine deposits of considerable thickness, would have
consumed 1,250,000 years.

The average thickness of all the strata that lie above the Old Red
Sandstone is not far from two miles. But this formation is itself, in
many places, two miles thick. And the lower Primary systems will
add at least ten miles to the vertical measure of the fossil-bearing
rocks. It is estimated that "the fossiliferous beds in Great Britain, as
a whole, are more than 70,000 feet in thickness ; " and many that are
there wanting, or nearly so, elsewhere expand into beds of immense
depth. There are certainly fifteen miles deep of strata to be account
ed for the slow accretions of the ages mainly ocean-sediment that
has come down from the wear and washings of the solid rocks. It
would be by no means a bold assumption to say that 20,000,000 years
had elapsed since the eozoon first built its reefs in the warm Lauren-
tian seas.

AXES AND HATCHETS, ANCIENT AND MODERN. 1

BY THE KEY. AET1IUR RIGG, M. A.

rpOOLS with cutting-edges are not only numerous and varied in
JL form, but they are also varied in the purposes for which they
are formed, and in the mode of using. Hence no very precise state
ment of what is generally meant by a "cutting-edge" can well be
1 From a lecture delivered before the London Society of Arts.

AXES AND HATCHETS, ANCIENT AND MODERN. 187

given. Three classes, however, of such tools may be marked out, and
into one or other of these it is probable all those tools which can
properly be defined as tools with cutting-edges may be arranged.

A first class will comprehend tools which meeting the work at a
particular angle continue the path of each portion of the edge in the
same straight line. Axes, adzes, gouges, chisels, and planes (as ordi
narily used by carpenters), belong to this class. Such tools are brought
into action either by impact or by direct thrust. The adaptation of
machinery to tools in this class is easy, because the cutting-edge has
to describe only a straight line, and this done once, if the place of
application be removed, a repetition of impact or thrust in the same
direction will suffice.

FIG. 1. ADZE OF FLINT.

A second class will comprehend tools which, while as a rule retain
ing the angle at which they are applied to the work, the path of any
portion of the tool is not a straight but a curved line. Tools of Class
2 are seldom acted upon by direct impact, or simple thrust. To adapt
them to machine-work requires either a compound motion in the tool,
or a motion compounded of the tool and work. When used as handi
craft tools, this compound motion is derived from the muscular ac
tions of the body of the workman, or the mechanical contrivances of
construction in the tool. Knives, shears, razors, and saws, belong to
this class. And to this class belong those tools in which what are
mechanical contrivances for causing a " draw cut" are introduced, e. g.,
certain garden and pruning shears, also, hay and bread cutting knives.
There is a motion in the human jaws which gives to the cutting
teeth this " draw cut," and so they separate what is between them as
draw-cut scissors might do. Indeed, all tools in this class operate
most efficiently when acting upon the " draw-cut " system.

Hence, while certain of the human teeth belong to Class 1, others
belong to Class 2. The contrivance in the jointing of the lower jaw
to the upper in man is a compound one, adapting itself to three
motions, one or other of which is found in many tools. There is up-

i88 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and-down motion, enabling certain of the teeth to cut meat as nippers
do. There is also a backward-and-forward motion, producing a saw
or file like operation, and there is a lateral or side motion, producing
such a result as that of grinding. It is probable that, from observa
tion on the action of the teeth, the " draw cut," so essential to the
perfection of tools that really cut, has been suggested.

FIG. 2. DOUBLE -EDGED AXE or GREENSTONE.

Class 3 will comprehend those tools in which rotation is more
usual than rectilineal motion. The tools in this class are constructed
on principles allied to those in the two former classes. All drilling
and boring tools belong to this class.

The action of tools with cutting-edges in Class 1, being the most
simple, had better be first considered. As axes and adzes belong to
this class, and as the structure of habitations probably led our ances
tors to the formation of tools, doubtless that form of cutting-instru
ment which most commended itself to these primitive artificers would
be the first to be constructed. Passing by the very early form, we
may commence with a consideration of the edge of the axe or adze,
when that edge became part of a constructed implement, and not a
mere piece of sharp-edged flint. The construction essential to the
tool is a handle, or, as it is called, a " helve." The shape of this helve,
and the mode in which the head or metal of the axe is attached to it,
are well worthy of some preliminary attention.

Perhaps here may be drawn the distinction between narrow and
broad axes and hatchets. Axes are tools to be used with both hands ;
they have long handles, and may be swung as sledge-hammers.
Hatchets are to be used with one hand, have short handles, they are
much lighter and thinner than axes, and are employed more in the
trimming than in the hewing of timber. Both narrow and broad axes
are employed in forestry, the woodman s choice being affected by the

AXES AND HATCHETS, ANCIENT AND MODERN. 189

size of the timber and the character of the fibre. A hatchet is handled
with the centre of gravity nearer the cutting-edge than the line of the
handle ; an axe with the centre of gravity in the line of handle pro
duced. Of this, however, more hereafter.

The mode of attaching a handle to an axe in the bronze age is
very instructive to us. The illustrations are suggestive enough, and
need only a passing remark. It will be observed that for the pur
pose of handling, some of these axes are socketed, others wedge-
pointed. The socketed ones were evidently handled as we handle
socketed chisels. There is, however, one peculiarity, and that worthy
of consideration. These bronze hatchets have in many instances a
semicircular, ring-like projection (see Figs. 4 and 5), the object of
which was for a long time a puzzle, but the suggested mode of
handling the implements, if correct as seen in the diagram, points
to a knowledge of directions of tension and of pressure, which engi
neers at the present day cannot but admire. If any one has ever
struck a common hatchet to any great depth into timber, and care
lessly endeavored to loosen it by raising the extremity of the handle,
he may have found the handle separate from the metal near the junc
tion of the two. Now the withe, or lashing, shown in this bronze in
strument, has been put, as we should put it at the present day, in
order to strengthen the connection at this, the weakest part.

FIG. 3. FlG - 4 -

Figs. 3, 4, 5, are examples of the modes of handling these ancient
bronze hatchets. Fig. 3 is the most primitive. Fig. 4 and Fig. 5
illustrate the mode adopted to strengthen by tension-cords the weak
est part of the handle. A remnant of this tension-cord is probably

190 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

seen in the increased depth now given to the handle, where it enters
the eye. It will be noticed that Fig. 5 is socketed as a carpenter s
heavy mortising-chisel. The commendable pride of these prehistoric
workmen in the beauty of their tools may be inferred from the orna
mentation of these bronze axe-blades.

When we pass from the tool and its contrived handle to the mode
of using, and the purpose for which it has been constructed, we find,
as a rule, a cutting-edge formed by two inclined surfaces meeting at
an angle, the bisecting line of which passes through the middle of the
metal. It is very apparent that the more acute this angle is, the
greater, under the same impact, will be the penetrative power of the
axe into the material against which it is driven. This supposition
very soon needs to be qualified, for suppose the material offers a great
resistance to the entrance of this edge, then the effect of the blow,
upon the principle that action and reaction are equal, will react upon
the edge, and the weakest, either edge of axe or object struck, must
yield. Here, then, primitive experience would be obliged to qualify
the simple tool in which the edge was keen and acute, and would nat
urally sacrifice the keenness and acuteness to strength.

When early uses of the axe are considered, it will be noticed that,
even in fashioning with an axe or adze the same piece of wood, differ
ent conditions of edge are requisite. If the blow be given in the direc
tion of the fibre, resistance to entrance of the edge is much less than
in the blow across that fibre. So great, indeed, may this difference
become, that while the axe in Class 1 seems in all respects a suitable
tool, yet as the attention of the workman passes to directions inclined
to the fibre at an angle of more than forty-five degrees, he will be in
duced to lay aside the tools in Class 1, and try those in Class 2 ; for
he will have found that while in the one direction of the wood the
edge of his axe continues sound and efficient, yet a few blows on the
same timber at right angles to this direction have seriously damaged
the perfection of the edge, whatever may be the angle at which the
faces meet which constitute the edge.

These remarks apply only to tools used in dividing materials, and
not to tools used in preparation of surfaces of materials. This pre
liminary consideration prepares us for the different circumstances
under which these two classes of tools may be respectively used.
And as the contrast of the effect of the same tool under different cir
cumstances in the same substance is considerable, great also is likely
to be the contrast between the edges of the tools and the manner of
using them, e. g., the axe, which is the proper tool in the direction of
the fibre, is operated upon by impact, while a saw, which is the proper
tool across the fibre, is operated upon by tension or thrust, but never
by impact.

The mode in which the axe is used will explain why it is unsuited
for work across the fibre. The axe is simply a wedge, and therefore

AXES AND HATCHETS, ANCIENT AND MODERN. 191

arranged to cleave, rather than to cut, the wood. Now, a calculation
of the pressure necessary to thrust forward a wedge, and the impact
necessary to cause the same wedge to enter the same depth, would
explain why (regarded as a wedge only) the handle proves an import
ant adjunct to the arm of the workman. Any one may test this by
using an ordinary-handled hatchet on a soft straight-grained wood,
or he may take a small axe with a straight and not a curved edge ;
let it rest upon a lump of moderately soft clay. Add weights until it
has sunk to any decided depth, then take the axe by the head, and
by pressure force the edge to the same depth. Next, hold the axe by
the handle, first at, say, one foot from the head, then at two feet, then
perhaps at three feet, and give blows which seem of equal intensity,
and mark the depth. Thus a practical testimony to the value of a
handle will be borne by the respective depths.

A few words about the motion of the hands and the handle they
grasp ; and then a consideration of the curves given to the cutting-
edges of axes, adzes, etc. ; also to the wedge-like sections of the edges.
These will be all that can now be considered.

The motions of the hands on the handle of an axe are similar to
those of a workman on that of the sledge-hammer. The handle of a
properly-handled axe is curved, that of a sledge-hammer is straight.
For present consideration this curvature may be overlooked, although
it plays an important part in the using of an axe with success and
ease. If the almost unconscious motions of a workman skilled in the
use of an axe be observed, it will be noticed that, while the hand far
thest from the axe-head grasps the handle at the same or nearly the
same part, the other hand, or the one nearest to the head, frequently
moves. Let us follow these motions and consider the effect of them.
The axe has just been brought down with a blow and entered be
tween the fibres of the wood. In this position it may be regarded as
wedged in the wood, held in fact by the pressure of the fibres against
the sides of the axe. From this fixity it must be released, and this
is usually done by action on or near the head. For this purpose the
workman slides his hand along the handle, and, availing himself (if
need be) of the oval form of the handle after it has passed through
the eye of the metal, he releases the head. The instrument has now
to be raised to an elevation ; for this purpose his hand remains near
to the head, so causing the length of the path of his hand and that
of the axe-head to be nearly the same. The effect of this is to require
but a minimum of power to be exerted by the muscles in raising the
axe ; whereas, if the hand had remained near the end of the handle
most distant from the head, then the raising of the axe-head would
have been done at what is called a mechanical disadvantage. Indeed,
if a workman will notice the position of the hand (which does not
slide along the handle) before and after the blow has been given, he will
find that its travel has been very small indeed. Remembering that

192 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the power exerted to raise a body is in the inverse ratio of the spaces
passed through by the body, and the point of application of the power,
it may thus be obvious how great a strain will be on the muscles if
the axe-head be raised by the hands at the opposite extremity of the
handle. Reverse the problem. Take the axe-head as raised to such
an elevation as to cause the handle to be vertical (we are dealing
with ordinary axes, the handles being in the plane of the axe-blade).
Now, the left hand is at the extremity of the handle, the right hand
is very near to the axe-head the blow is about to be given. The
requirement in this case is that there should be concentrated at the
axe-head all the force or power possible ; hence to ease the descent
would be as injudicious as to intensify the weight of the lift. Con
sequently, while with the hand nearest to the head (as it is when the
axe reaches its highest elevation) the workman momentarily forces
forward the axe, availing himself of the leverage now formed by re
garding the left hand as the fulcrum of motion, he gives an impulse,
and this impelling force is continued until an involuntarily conscious
ness assures him that the descending speed of the axe is in excess of
any velocity that muscular efforts can maintain. To permit gravity
to have free play, the workman withdraws the hand nearest to the
head, and, sliding it along the handle, brings it close to the left hand,
which is at the extremity of the handle ; thus the head comes down
upon the work with all the energy which a combination of muscular
action and gravity can effect. The process is repeated by the right
hand sliding along the handle, and releasing as well as raising the
head.

FIG. 6.

The form of the axe-handle deserves notice, differing as it does
from that of the sledge-hammer. In the latter it is round or nearly
so, in the axe it is oval, the narrow end of the oval being on the side
toward the edge of the axe, and, more than this, the longer axis of
the oval increases as the handle approaches the head, till at its en
trance into the. head it may be double what it is at the other extrem
ity. It often has also a projection at the extremity of the handle.
The increasing thickness near the head not only gives strength where
needed, as the axe is being driven in, but it also supplies that for
which our ancestors employed the thongs as illustrated in Figs. 4 and
5. There is, too, this further difference in a sledge-hammer more or
less recoil has to be provided for, and the handle does this ; in the
axe no recoil ought to take place. The entrance of the axe-edge is,

AXES AND HATCHETS, ANCIENT AND MODERN. 193

or ought to be, sufficient to retain it, and the whole of the energy
resulting from muscular action and gravity should be utilized. The
curvature, too, of the handle is in marked contrast with the straight
line of the sledge-hammer handle. The object of this curvature is
worthy of note. In my hand is an American forester s axe. The
handle is very long and curved. If, laying the axe-handle across my
finger where the head and handle balance, I place the blade of the axe
horizontally, you may notice that the edge does not turn downward ;
in fact, the centre of gravity of the axe-head is in the horizontal
straight-line prolongation of the handle through the place where my
finger is. Now, in sledge-hammer work the face is to be brought
down flat, i. e., as a rule, in an horizontal plane. Not so with the for
ester s axe : it has to be brought down at varying obliquities. If, now,
the hewer s hand had to be counteracting the influence of gravity,
there would be added to him very needless labor ; hence the care of a
skilled forester in the balance of the axe-head and the curvature of
the handle.

We must now consider the form of the cutting-edge as seen in
the side of the axe. It is often convex. The line across the face in
Fig. 7 indicates the extent of the steel, and the corresponding line in
Fig. 8 the bevel of the cleaving edge. It will be noticed that the cut
ting-edge in each case is curved. The object of this is to prevent not
only the jar and damage which might be done by the too sudden
stoppage of the rapid motion of the heavy head in separating a group
of fibres, but also to facilitate that separation by attacking these fibres
in succession. For, assuming that the axe falls square on its work

FIG. 7.

in the direction of the fibres, a convex edge will first separate two
fibres, and in so doing will have released a portion of the bond which
held adjoining fibres. An edge thus convex, progressing at each side
of the convexity which first strikes the wood, facilitates the entrance
of successive portions from the middle outward. If the edge had
been straight and fallen parallel to itself upon the end of the wood,
none of this preliminary preparation would have taken place ; on the
contrary, in all probability there would have been in some parts a

VOL. IX. 13

194

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

progressive condensation of fibres, and to that extent an increase in
the difficulty of the work.

The equally-inclined sides of the wedge-form of edge hitherto
alone described as belonging to axes, and the equal pressure this form
necessarily exerts upon each side if a blow is given in the plane of
the axe, suggest what will be the action of an axe if the angle of the
wedcre is not bisected by the middle line of the metal. Assume that

O /

one face only is inclined, and that the plane of the other is continu
ous to the edge, then let the blow be struck as before. It will be
obvious that the plane in the line of the fibres cannot cause any sep
aration of these fibres, but the slope entering the wood will separate
the fibres on its own side. Suppose a hatchet sharpened as pre
viously described, and one as now described, are to be applied to
the same work viz., the cutting from a solid block the outside ir-

FIG. 9.

FIG. 10.

regularities say to chop the projecting edges from a square log and
to prepare it for the lathe. It may be briefly stated that the hatchet
described in the second case would do the work with greater ease to
the workman, and with a higher finish, than the ordinary equally-in
clined sides of the edge of the common hatchet. Coach-makers have

FIG. 11.

much of this class of hatchet-paring work to do, and the tool they
use is shaped as in Fig. 10. The edge is beveled on one side only,
and, under where the handle enters the eye, may be noticed a piece
rising toward the handle ; on this the finger of the workman rests in
order to steady the blade in its entrance into the timber in the plane

AXES AND HATCHETS, ANCIENT AND MODERN. 195

of the straight part o/ the blade, and to counteract the tendency of
the wedge-side pressing the hatchet out of its true plane.

ON ADZES. Those whose business requires the forming of lengths
of wood into curved shapes, and who rely upon the adze for the prelimi
nary operation, use an Indian form of adze. In India it is held so near
the metal that the workman s hand touches the metal. He accomplishes
blows chiefly by acting from the elbow. This very general mode of
holding gives a pretty uniform length to the radius of the swing, hence
the form of the adze in the plane of the swing is nearly that of the cir
cle described. The angle of the handle and the adze is very much the
same as that of the handle of the file-maker s hammer and the head.

THE TWO-HANDED ADZE. When we look at the adze as used by
English wheelwrights or shipwrights, we may well shudder to see
how it is handled, especially when the cutting-edge is taken into ac
count. The operation, briefly described, is the following : The work
man stands with one foot upon the wood, this foot being in the line
of the fibre. He thus assists in steadying (say) the felloe of a wheel.
From this felloe much of the wood oh which the sole of his shoe rests
has to be removed. It will be noticed that the long handle of the
adze is curved the object of this is to permit an efficient blow to be
given, and the instrument brought to a stop before the handle strikes
any part of the workman s body ; in fact, caused to stop by the ex
haustion of its impact energy in and among the fibres of wood to be
separated. The edge is often so keen as to cut through a horse-hair
held at one end and pressed against it.

This instrument is raised by both hands until nearly in an horizon
tal position, and then not simply allowed to fall, but steadily driven
downward until the curved metal, with its broad and sharp edge,
enters near to, if not below, the sole of the workman s shoe, separat
ing a large flake of wood from the mass ; the handle is rapidly raised,
and the blows repeated. This is done with frequency, the workman
gradually receding his foot until the end-flakes of wood are separated.
It is fearful to contemplate an error of judgment or an unsteady blow.
William Tell and the apple on his son s head are, in another
here repeated.

FIG. 12.

So skilled do men become in thus using the adze, that some will
undertake, with any predetermined stroke in a series, to sph

shoe-sole in two. , f

CUEVATURE OF ADZE.-Clearly the adze must be sharpened fron
the inside, and, when the action of it is considered, it is also clear 1
the curvature of the adze-iron must be circular, or nearly so.

196

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The true curvature of the metal may be approximately deduced
from considering the radius of the circle described by the workman s
arms, and the handle of the adze.

The edge of the adze is convex (Fig. 12), the projection in the
middle being so formed for the same reasons as influenced the curva
ture of the edge of the axe already alluded to.

The curvature in the blade also serves (though partially) as a ful
crum, for, by slightly thrusting the handle from him, the workman
may release such flakes of timber as are over the adze, and yet so
slightly adherent as not to require another blow. Thus the adze when
applied lever-fashion discharges its duty as the curvature in the claw

FIG. 13.

of a hammer does. Fig. 13 is a gouge-formed adze; a modification
of this is used in making wooden spouts, and similar hollow work.

Many of the remarks applied to axes and adzes also apply to pick
axes. It may suffice to refer to two forms of this tool ; they differ
not so much in the operative points as in the size and distribution of
the material.

The one used by paviors is long and light, and of large curvature ;
the other, used by stone-masons and quarrymen, is short-handled and
heavy, much material being concentrated in the head. There is also
another form of this instrument used on kegs, for the purpose of driv
ing home the wooden wedges ; in this form there is no point, the tool

FIG. 14.

is rather that of an elongated hammer, the ends being provided with
" panes " of different forms, set off at different angles. Such tools may
properly be consigned to the class of hammers.

The pavior s, the mason s, and the quarryman s picks are the three
to be very briefly considered. The first is properly a lever, and no

SUBTERRANEAN STREAMS IN SOUTH CAROLINA. i 97

more; its pointed end is for entrance between stones, and then the
wooden handle and the unemployed elevated arm of the pick are
used as two lever-arms at right angles to each other ; thus motion can
be had in two planes for the varying character of the pavior s work.

Such an employment is never allotted to the stone-mason s pick.
The object of this is to remove chippings from stone much as the
single-angled edge of an axe or an adze would do with chips from
timber. It is, however, pointed and not edged, because stones are not
fibrous. The weight of the iron head corresponds exactly with that
of a heavy hammer, and, so far as this particular feature is concerned,
the considerations in relation to hammers apply.

There are peculiarities in reference to the points of these tools.
The whole of the energy of the workmen is expended upon one point
(in the carpenter s axe or the wheelwright s adze this energy is dis
tributed over an edge from four to eight inches in length), hence the
rapid wear of this point, and the necessity not of frequent grinding,
but of frequent reforging and retempering. Any attempt at grind
ing up these points would be practically unsuccessful, made as these
picks usually are, because of the mass of metal required to give that
penetration resulting from the sudden stoppage of heavy weights.
The ordinary picks are therefore sent to the smith s to be sharpened.
For this purpose they must be removed from the handle ; and this has
suggested forms of eye and handle which might with advantage be
used with some other tools.

The axes and adzes hitherto considered have been chiefly regarded
as tools for the greatest amount of heavy work to be accomplished by
a workman. They are at one extreme of the scale, the other extreme
being the removal of such small flakes as to become shavings of vary
ing thickness. In progressing from great to small, the order would
be from the axe or adze with its weighted head to a separation of the
cutting-edge and its necessary metal, and the weight which must give
the blow. Hence, in this descending scale, we reach the chisel, struck
by a mallet. Journal of the Society of Arts.

SUBTERRANEAN STREAMS IN SOUTH CAROLINA.

BY KEY. EGBERT WILSON.

"XTEITHER the formations nor the phenomena described in this
-IN paper are peculiar to South Carolina, and the general subject
has been frequently investigated in other limestone regions. The
present Writer, therefore, desires merely to offer some results c
own observation and experience as a contribution to the scientific 1
erature of the subject.

198 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

In that portion of the State which lies between the Santee and the
head-waters of the Cooper commences a chain of so-called springs which
present some exceedingly interesting features. Before describing them
it may be well to note the surroundings. The face of the country is
flat, without a single hill worthy the name. The soil is a sandy loam,
and, being within the thermal influences exerted by the Gulf Stream
along the entire lower coast-line for fifty miles or more inland, is well
adapted to the culture of the " long-stapled," " black-seed," or " sea-
island" cotton, but yields poor crops of corn, and no pasturage. The
lower bank of the river is always covered by " the swamp," with its
dense canebrakes and its heavy growth of cypress. The upland is a
broad and rich belt, dotted with cotton-plantations, and well wooded
with oak, hickory, gum, and similar trees. Winding about through
this belt is a high ridge of sandy, barren soil, covered by the long-
leaved or turpentine pine and a thick undergrowth of " scrub-oak."
It is in the middle or plantation belt that the " springs " occur. In
both swamp and pine-land the water is soft, while that of the springs
is strongly charged with lime, and, unless boiled and iced, decidedly
laxative. Good pure water can usually be obtained, however, within
a few hundred yards from " pine-land wells," or " freestone " springs.
The country abounds in game, especially the swamps bear, deer,
wild-cats, the gray fox, and other small quadrupeds, with turkeys,
partridges, woodcock, snipe, and indeed all birds, common to the lati
tude. No rocks or bowlders are to be found. The springs occur at
irregular intervals over a space of some thirty miles, at least ; whether
beyond that distance or not I do not know. They are not properly
springs, there being no case which I can remember where any bub
bling or oozing of the water occurs, nor is there any adequate outlet
from any of the basins ; a small and shallow stream, or " run," which
is soon absorbed by the swampy soil, being the only way of escape
for the water, while in some cases, as we shall see, there is absolutely
no way for it to escape.

Let us now proceed to examine a few of these basins in detail.
The most remarkable of them all is on the " Woodboo " plantation,
about forty miles from Charleston. Walking toward a clump of tall
cypresses, you suddenly find yourself on the brink of a miniature
lake, the ground being firm up to the water s edge. An irregular
basin, about fifty yards long by a dozen wide, is hollowed out in
the blue limestone-rock which underlies the soil but a few inches from
the surface, and this is filled to the brim with slightly opaline yet
perfectly clear water. The bottom slopes abruptly from either side to
the middle, where it is fully twelve feet deep, and where exists an
irregular fissure extending the whole length of the basin, and varying
from two to six inches (apparently) in width. The basin swarms with
fish of every variety common to the waters of the region, and of every
size. Schools of fry keep near the edges, hundreds in number, while

SUBTERRANEAN STREAMS IN SOUTH CAROLINA. 199

in the deeper water may be seen full-grown perch and bream, catfish,
black bass, pike, and alewives. Watch the bottom for a while, and
you will see these fish issuing from the fissure in the rock, the larger
bass (four to eight pounders) never venturing far from it, and darting
into it at the least alarm. I well remember a pike nearly three feet
long which I have often struck with a fishing-cane, but which I never
could capture. The largest fish will not take the hook, on account of
the exposure to view; but the smaller bream, perch, and bass, bite with
great eagerness, and I have often caught from twenty to sixty in an
afternoon, selecting the best fish by sight, and placing the bait at their
very mouths. Sometimes the basin is almost empty of fish ; an hour
afterward enough will be visible to overstock a dozen ponds of equal
size. By day eels are rarely visible, and you may stir up all the
patches of grass along the bed without discovering one; at night they
are frequently caught, the negroes sometimes " gigging " them of the
largest size. The temperature of the water is the same winter and
summer, about 62, and the fish bite best in the coldest weather. I
have examined the sandy margins at all seasons, and have never seen
a fish-bed in this or any other of the springs. They do not breed in
them, and indeed could not possibly do so.

From the lower extremity of this large basin proceeds the " run,"
a shallow, winding stream down which the larger fish could not pos
sibly make their way. Indeed, I once caught a two-pound bass
stranded, having essayed the passage and failed. Following this run
about five hundred yards, we come suddenly on another busin, circu
lar in form and much smaller than the first. Its greatest diameter
is probably not over fifteen feet, while its greatest depth, near the
centre, is fully ten. The bottom descends like a huge funnel, but on
one side there is a projecting ledge of rock, under which, sloping
downward in a direction away from the upper basin, is a hole seem
ingly about a foot in diameter. Out of this hole bass and pike of the
largest size are seen to emerge, while the upper basin is filled with
small bream and sunfish, biting readily at angle-worms, and occasion
ally a large red-bellied perch, a species rarely seen in the basin, will
dart from under the rock-ledge and seize the bait. The little stream
is lost at this basin, which has no outlet, but is surrounded by a wet,
swampy piece of ground. Not far from these basins marl has been
extensively dug, and one or two beds of greensand have been found,
but I never knew the hard limestone-rock which forms the bottom of
the springs to be struck in any of the excavations.

Proceeding now in a northwesterly direction, we find another of
these basins on a plantation about two miles off. The ground falls
suddenly into a little valley about twelve feet deep and six or seven
wide, at the head of which stands a very old oak-tree, growing on the
upper level. On the southeast the roots have been exposed by the
washing of the clay soil, and immediately under them lies the spring.

200 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

This is a basin inclosed by an octagonal brick wall, where, for a cen
tury or more, the washing of the plantation and other such matters
have been performed. Directly under the oak-tree is a ledge of rock,
over which the w T ater is about two feet deep. It grows more shallow
toward the " run," where its depth is but a few inches ; the entire
basin is about thirteen feet by ten. The above-mentioned ledge of
rock forms the roof of a cave-like aperture some eighteen inches high
by three or four feet wide, into whose dark recesses the eye cannot
penetrate, the bottom sloping away in a northwesterly direction under
the hill which sustains the old oak. Schools of minnows frequent the
shallow part, and hide in the water-grass ; stir this grass with a cane
or stick, and occasionally you may frighten out a small bream or sun-
fish, but very few fish of any sort are seen in the shallow basin, and
these few refuse the most tempting bait. Now, the proper rock-basin
here lies just in front of the cavernous opening, and is some six feet
deep, but scarcely four in diameter. Drop your line there, and, if all
is quiet, in a moment your float will dart diagonally down under the
rock, and you may draw out a yellow-bellied perch, a blue bream, or
a sun-perch of half a pound weight. Look in, and you will see huge
bass lying with their heads only visible at the opening, or flashing
their silvery sides as they turn into its unknown recesses. I once
detected a pair of white eyes peering from the grass at the mouth of
this cavern, and, dropping my bait just in front of them, was aston
ished at hooking an enormous mud-fish; this fish must have weighed
five pounds, and he carried several yards of tackle right into the
bowels of the earth, whence it soon emerged minus hook and lead.
The "run" to this basin is not more than three inches deep any
where, and sinks entirely into a quaking bog some hundred yards
from its source. No fish over an inch long could swim seventy yards
from the basin, and there is no communication whatever with any
other water.

Leaving the "Pooshee Spring," we now ride a little to the east of
north, and, at the distance of about two miles, we reach " Moore s
Fountains," the most remarkable of the group. Crossing a little
" bay " in the pine-land, you notice under your feet a miniature Natu
ral Bridge, a span of rock about six feet wide covered with earth, and
a little hole full of clear water on either side. Walking among the
pines about a hundred yards to the right, you reach the " Fountains,"
six or seven holes in the ground, the largest of which is about five
feet by eight, and in general character like the larger basins before
described, but much more shallow. All these holes contain large
numbers of small perch and bream, which bite readily in the winter,
but are hardly worth catching. A little to the right of them used to
stand two large twin-pines, and directly between their roots was a
hole not more than two feet in diameter, and which you could not
detect until you stood on its very edge. (I use the past tense, as the

SUBTERRANEAN STREAMS IN SOUTH CAROLINA. 201

trees may have fallen in the ten years since I stood beside them.)
This hole seems to go sheer down into the earth, and I have never
been able to sound its depth with the longest fishing-line or rod
which I had with me. Setting my float about ten feet deep, however,
and " bobbing " into it by hand, I have caught, from between those
trees, from thirty to sixty good-sized bream and perch of different
species, in the course of two hours. The float w T ould go straight
down, as if the fish were descending into the bowels of the earth.

The next spring of which I know the existence is at " The Rocks "
plantation, some twelve miles away, and the last of the chain is the
famous "Eutaw Springs," where a battle was fought during the
Revolution. At the latter place there are two openings, some dis
tance apart, and tradition says that an Indian once dived into one
and emerged from the other. I do not know whether fish are caught
in these or not. No connection has ever been traced between these
springs, or fountains, and the neighboring rivers, either of which
the Santee and the Cooper is many miles away. Here, then, is the
proof of a subterranean stream, or more probably lake, inhabited by
fish in immense numbers, and of the same species found in the neigh
boring waters. These fish have perfect eyes, and differ in no respect
from their fellows of the ponds and rivers, except that they invariably
present that bright, clean appearance characteristic of fish taken from
pure, clear water. They must pass freely through the whole course
of the underground caverns, for, were all the open basins put together
in one, it would not afford food or breeding-space for one hundredth
part of the number found in any one of them, and they must live
most of their time in utter darkness, for the little openings at which
they appear are few in number and many miles apart. The indica
tions seem to be that this enormous subterranean cave or water-course
is hollowed out through a narrow stratum of limestone-rock which
winds its way in a southeasterly direction; but it may be of far
greater extent. Near Pineville, some ten miles from the nearest
spring, and considerably off the course, there is a certain spot in the
public road where the sound of the horse s feet is precisely like the
noise made in crossing an earth-covered bridge, and tradition tells of
treasure buried there in Revolutionary times. The water in this sec
tion shows no lime, nor indeed does it anywhere except in the springs
themselves. The negroes of the region have invested these springs
with a supernatural interest, peopling them with water-spirits known
as " Cymbees," resembling in their imaginary characters the Undines
and kelpies of the Old World.

202 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

MATHEMATICS IX EVOLUTION.

BY GEOEGE ILES.

WHILE we know that only Infinite Intelligence could reduce the
entire phenomena of the universe to mathematical expression,
it affords an observer constant surprise to find primitive laws of
order and number recur again and again amid the infinite variety of
Nature.

The spectroscope would seem to indicate that the elements of our
present chemistry are really very complex structures, yet we find
them, when grouped in all sorts of proportions as molecules, capable
of crystallizing in forms of perfect geometrical symmetry, often of
much simplicity. In botany, where the factors both chemically and
mechanically are extremely various, we find simple laws obeyed in
the disposition of leaves, flowers, and parts of flowers ; a remarkable
instance of which occurs in the growth of leaves on spirally-leaved
plants. In the first order of them, a leaf is found in |- the circumfer
ence of the stem, and throughout the series the arcs occupied by a
leaf are respectively |, |, f , T 5 , / T , and -Jj-, of a circle, the numerator
and denominator of each fraction being those of the two next pre
ceding added together. !

In the highest plane of Nature, that of animal forms, the condi
tions fulfilled are too complex to permit any formulation of lines and
angles, but natural history in its first chapters gives us the habita
tions of the nautilus and other organisms low in the scale of life,
which in their beautiful volutes and spirals embody simple geometry.
So also does the architecture of our common insects, the bee, wasp,
and spider, which, wonderful as it is, must remain less so than the
work of the microscopic coral zoophytes, which, while severally living
and building where it is easiest, yet unconsciously cooperate through
successive generations to complete a structure of comparatively vast
proportions and much symmetrical unity.

These few examples, which might be multiplied indefinitely, may
serve as bases for the opinion that complex wholes, acting in many
cases like -simple ones, may be more easily reducible to mathematical
treatment than might at first view be supposed, from the number and
variety of ultimate factors concerned in any given problem. Nature
would seem to act by but few first principles, which she constantly
repeats in her various fields, and which, combined in different ways,
yield all her infinite manifestations. The scientific progress of our
times is marked by the continual absorption of diverse laws into
higher and more general ones ; thus the forms of force that used to be
thought distinct entities are now proved to be interchangeable, and
therefore essentially the same. A minor instance of a like kind occurs

MATHEMATICS IN EVOLUTION. 203

in the recent investigation of wave-motion. The old notion was that
the particles in water-waves moved up and down in straight lines,
but the fact has been demonstrated that they roll in circles having
a diameter equal to the amplitude of the wave ; this holds of all
wave-motion, including light, so that the movements of the planets,
as they turn on their axes and circle round the sun, are conveyed to
our sight by an ethereal motion of precisely the same kind.

Although mathematical studies find ample illustration in Nature,
an exaggerated love of symmetry may be induced by them, causing
an enthusiast to pass legitimate bounds in au effort to over-simplify
intricate problems ; thus Kepler attempted to harmonize the orbits
of the five planets with the boundaries of the five regular solids suc
cessively contained in each other. Such a vagary, however, could be
pardoned in the author of the three immortal laws of astronomy.

In the present stage of knowledge so few of the sciences are ex
act, that any application of mathematics to the vast and complex
processes of evolution is only allowable when the laws considered
would be so powerful, did they work in an open field, that, though
veiled by many weaker ones, they remain distinctly discernible in
the salient features of Nature.

A valid application of this kind is made by Mr. Darwin in his
theory of natural selection, where he states the tendency of organ
isms to multiply according to the law of geometrical progression
a tendency which he shows counts throughout the mazy conflict of
forces affecting organic life. The purpose of this paper is to trace
some effects of other such laws, in their theoretical simplicity so ex
tremely potent, that their results persist through all practical quali
fications, and so, when shown to account for observed facts, may serve
as tenable ground for inference and deduction.

In evolution heterogeneity is a constant measure of progress, hence
the laws stating the variety of effects producible from given elements
have a direct interest and value. These are the laws of combination
and permutation. Combinations, mathematically, are groups where
the presence and not the position of an element counts for difference
thus B C A and B A C are the same combination but different per
mutations. As additions are made to the elements, combinations in
crease in geometrical progression with 2 as constant factor. Thus 2
elements yield 4 ; 3, 8 ; 4, 16 ; until, when we reach 63, the number
of elements in chemistry, we find more than nine quintillions of com
binations to be possible. This law tends to hold only in cases where
the particular position of an element in a group is indifferent, as in
the superimposition of colors in light ; as in the simple molecules of
chemistry, where, for instance, the result is the same, whether ^H a
unites with O, or O with IF ; and as in all merely mechanical mixing
of ingredients in manufacture, as pottery, gunpowder, and so on. Such
cases are less common in Nature and art than those in whicli definite

204 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

positions are points of difference, as we find in the atomic grouping
of compound molecules, where the phenomena of isomerism appear ;
in the order of successive sounds, whether in language or music ; and
as in the various series in which muscular and nervous forces coordi
nate in animal movements. In all such cases the multiplication of
effects tends to follow a law of even greater increase than that of geo
metrical progression namely, the law of permutations.

If A B C be elements given, their permutations in groups of 3 are
(3x2x1), in groups of 2, 6 more, and adding 3 for the elements
taken singly, 15 is obtained as the number of permutations of all
kinds. The addition of a new element increases them to 64 (15x4 + 4),
and so on in a ratio increasing with every additional element, until
we find that 10 produce 9,856,900 permutations, and but 1,024 combi
nations.

These abstract laws are paralleled by the multiplied results which
follow in the wake of any important invention or discovery. Forty
years ago the main arts of representation were five in number sculp
ture, painting, printing, engraving, and lithography. The art of photog
raphy, introduced by Daguerre in 1839, and since so beautifully de
veloped, is continually increasing derivative arts. It is applicable to
every other main art, and may become an element in new permu-
tative groups of them. It has already given aid to the sculptor, the
painter, and the engraver, and in the heliotype and woodburytype
exhibits relations with lithography and printing; besides, it has added
to human power in many other ways, has made the stereoscope avail
able, bringing the natural beauties and artistic treasures of distant
lands vividly near ; it has aided astronomy in fixing views of tran
sits and eclipses of brief duration, and in mapping the sun and moon;
the physiologist has used it to preserve the evanescent exhibitions of
dissection ; and in observatories it accurately marks the minute move
ments of delicate apparatus. It limns the interiors of pyramids,
catacombs, caves, and mines, giving incidental help to archaeology
and geology ; and, in regions inaccessible to man, pictures the depths
of the sea. It serves in war and might in peace to aid the topog
rapher in mapping plans of city and country; in times of siege it
has reduced correspondence to microscopic limits for carriage in the
only possible way by birds ; and from year to year this wonderful
art continues to be applied in new and valuable uses.

The illustration it affords of the manner in which human resources
are multiplied by the accession of a new discovery might be repeated,
were all the applications and results of the steam-engine, locomotive,
or telegraph, traced in their numerous ramifications. So far from
these mighty achievements exhausting the conquests possible to man,
they are merely centres of new circles of power from which he may
successively penetrate into the ever-boundless regions of the unknown.

The late Mr. Mill, at a period of great depression in his early life,

MATHEMATICS IN EVOLUTION. 205

found relief in the charms of music, and strangely enough dreaded an
exhaustion of it, just as many other people who have not the excuse
of morbid ailment think that all the greatest possible discoveries have
been made, and that all the finest things in prose and verse have been
said. Such notions are denied by the laws which have been stated,
as exemplified not only in the diversity and might of modern achieve
ment, but also in the deep relations between the elements of natural
action divulged by their very multiplication of effects ; the generali
zations of this age have never been equaled in scope and force the
persistence of force and the theory of evolution.

As sciences advance, their essential unity becomes more and more
evident; methods that at first view would seem utterly unconnected
are being constantly found to have a secret and helpful family tie.
The comparative value of various types of bridges has been investi
gated by submitting glass models duly weighted to polarized light,
which shows at once the distributions of strain and pressure. A
common magnetic needle has been successfully employed in finding
weak places in iron and steel axles by its unequal deflection at such
points, due to internal heterogeneity in the mass examined. At Paris
recently an underground pneumatic tube became obstructed at an
unknown point ; excavation was correctly guided by the adoption of
an acoustic principle ; a loud sound was made at the tube s entrance,
and the time occupied before the reflected wave returned was care
fully noted, from which was inferred the distance traversed by it to
and from the obstacle. Many instruments at first made for purely
philosophical study have been drafted into the world s practical
uses. Applications of the rheostat and Wheatstone s bridge serve to
locate the oft-recurring breaks in ocean-cables and telegraph-lines,
and have very lately yielded the marvellous duplex and quadruplex
telegraphs. The spectroscope, originally directed to the heavens, has
now found uses on earth of great value; it detects adulteration,
marks defectiveness in drainage, and points out impurities in water-
supplies. 1

1 A proposition in pure mathematics may receive elucidation and extension by an
illustration taken from optics. In Newton s " Principia," book i., section xii., prop. 70,
he proves, in a manner very difficult to follow, that a corpuscle placed within a hollow
sphere, if attracted as the square of the distance by all the points in the concave sur
face, will remain unmoved wherever placed, as the sums of attraction always balance.

This may be made clear not only of a spherical surface, but the closed interior of any
surface whatever, provided it has no reentrant angles, as a pyramid or an obliquely-
truncated cone.

For, imagine the corpuscle to be luminous and to be bisected by any plane extended
so as to cut the containing hollow surface into two parts, it is evident that equal
amounts of light are radiated by each half of the corpuscle on each of the two parts of
the surface containing it. Now, these rays diminish in intensity as the square of the
distance, and so reciprocally correspond with a force emanating according to the same
law from the surface and affecting the corpuscle. Hence, the area of the surface of any
hollow body, having no reentrant angles, varies as the square of its average distance
from any point within it.

206 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

So that, in the tree of knowledge, as the branches grow in all direc
tions, their offshoots come to touch at innumerable points.

The multiplication of effects may be traced not only in physics,
chemistry, and cognate sciences, but also in the chapters of natural
history and the facts of human life. The organized faculties of an
animal which are distinctly different may be considered of course,
with proper, qualification as elements which may be grouped per-
mutatively in the various actions directed to aid maintenance or pro
mote safety ; although, in the case of any particular variety of a
species, a vast discrepancy must exist between the theoretical results
of the mathematical law and the number of different groupings really
made, yet, if the discrepancy is tolerably constant in degree in any
two successive cases, the relations between two such cases may be
stated by the law with an approximation to truth. Thus if a variety
of quadrupeds with, say, four distinct and presumedly averaged pow
ers be taken, at first sight it would seem but one-third better off in the
struggle for existence than another variety with three several powers ;
yet the one may have an advantage over the other as great as four
to one, for the variety of actions possible to the former may cover a
field four times as great as the others. This aids us in understanding
why variations in useful rather than those in useless directions tend
strongly to persist. They do so because of the immense exaltation
of power that comes with the development of any new faculty, any
new means of securing a livelihood or escaping danger; and so great
is this exaltation that even minor degrees of development have an
appreciable value and tend to become permanent and to increase.

The effects of the laws under consideration also help to make clear
why transition periods in organic Nature have been brief as revealed
in their infrequent traces in such geological records as we possess.

When new circumstances have demanded the acquisition of new
powers, or rather the development of dormant ones, the odds have
been overwhelming against such individuals of a race as have been
inelastic in the required direction, so that in a comparatively short
period all that lived knew the new lesson.

A further corollary which harmonizes with observed facts is that,
as species progress, an ever-increasing width of gap would separate
kind from kind, and the highest individual of a kind from the next
below it. The lowest organisms, monera, have no definite shape ;
polyps, some grades above them, conform very tolerably to a certain
outline ; and so on in the scale of life an increasing individuality keeps
pace with an increasing divergency, until man and the tree mark the
two great summits of Nature in her animal and vegetal forms.

Many able students of the theory of evolution stop short at the
chasm which divides the human climax from the allied primates, and
hesitate to believe that there can be a common origin for apes and
the race which has produced a Beethoven and a Raphael ; but a con-

MATHEMATICS IN EVOLUTION. 207

sideration of the laws which have been stated, and which are closely
borne out by observation, would lead us to expect just what we find,
namely, in the processes of development intermediate links would
drop out after comparatively brief existence between planes of life
increasingly separated, so that the last difference of power and intelli
gence would be the greatest of all.

And, furthermore, the same laws make intelligible the vast gulfs
we find fixed between our intellectual giants and the rest of mankind,
so that they form a small solitary band above us all, leaving a mere
understanding of their mighty works the test of our highest powers.
A single English dramatist and a single English mathematician have
probably equaled in scope and excellence of original work, in their
several fields, all the like labors of their countrymen put together.

Two other mathematical laws, abstractedly of great power and
generality, may be noticed in the many phases of evolution, namely,
those treating of the relations between areas and solids of the same
form, varying in size. In like plane figures, boundaries increase di
rectly as like dimensions and areas, as the square ; in similar solids,
surfaces increase as the square and contents, as the cube of like dimen
sions. These laws state in an abstract way the economy of aggrega
tion, whether domestic, industrial, social, or political. The farmer
profits by them when he takes down costly- fences in enlarging his
domain ; the ship-builder avails himself of them when he models his
monster craft which shall carry the cargo of half a dozen small vessels
at half the expense ; the Broadway architect embodies them in
his lofty designs, rivaling in a business structure the height of a
common church-steeple, putting two ordinary buildings on one lot of
ground.

From the time when animals first noticed that two together were
stronger than two singly, the gregarious instinct has been assisted in
taking a firm hold on many species from its usefulness in attack and
defense ; where it is not exhibited, exceptional circumstances prevent :
for instance, a spider would have nothing to gain by going into part
nership, for it preys on flies much weaker than itself, and no company
of spiders, however large, could do battle with a swallow, or a house
maid armed with a broom.

Speaking in a general way, such savage tribes of men as have had
the strongest social feeling, and the largest mutual confidence, have,
other things equal, had an advantage over less coherent neighbors,
and so on,untit now modern history deals with national groups fewer
than ever before, and becoming fewer still.

In commerce, also, the largest banks, mercantile firms, and facto
ries, grow continually larger by virtue of the less expense attending
the management of extensive groups. The costly competition of
many small manufactories and merchants is passing away before the
more economical methods of a few strong concerns. Cooperation in

zoS THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

labor, and in the supply of a community with goods, has succeeded to
an encouraging extent in Europe, and in some degree on this continent.

In domestic life, also, the burden of sustaining the usual isolated
homes is beginning to be thought grievous and unnecessary. The
constant repetition of the same details on a small scale, in cooking,
warming, and attendance, is evidently subject to a large discount in
cost, and increase of comfort, when a number of families combine to
have a single kitchen, heating-furnace, and corps of servants. Many
solutions of this problem have been attempted with various success ;
large houses rented in flats, copied from European models, adorn some
of the chief streets of New York and Boston, and hotels on all sorts
of systems are to be found in our principal cities, numbering among
their patrons thousands of families. It may be reasonably expected
that in the near future some plan will be arrived at, and widely
accepted, combining the benefits of individual homes with the advan
tages of association ; but, for this result, an improvement in our pres
ent crude-ness of social feelings must take place. Great is the pre
mium placed on the growth of mutual harmony and confidence, yet
how slow that growth is !

A process analogous to aggregation is that of concentration, which
marks many of the forms of progress. When a force operates against
a lesser one of constant amount, concentration multiplies its efficiency.

If a common furnace s heat is 3,500, and a temperature of say
3,000 is required to melt iron, then but 500 of 3,500 are available
for that purpose ; but, when the same quantity of heat is presented at
4,200, 1,200 of 4,200 may be utilized, an efficiency twice as great
as the former. Hence the value of such an invention as the hot-blast,
increasing the intensity of flame: the inert and diluting nitrogen is
mingled w T ith the oxygen of common air by the feeble force of diffu
sion ; if they could be cheaply separated, it would mightily enhance
the value of coal. Steam-engines, as now constructed, rarely yield
in work more than a tenth the equivalent of heat applied; the chief
waste is in the exhaust-steam, which, although in immense quantity,
is of too low a temperature to raise more steam. Any feasible plan
of concentration is all that is wanted to make the steam-engine more
powerful; its duty has already been nearly doubled by the use of
much higher pressures than Watt employed or sanctioned. A pebble
on a sea-beach may have been exposed to the sun for ages without
perceptible effect, but the focusing of a lens may reduce it to the
liquid state in a few moments with no more solar beams than might
have otherwise idly fallen upon it in an hour. This same principle
also obtains in the operations of trade and business : the expenses of
a railroad, steamship, or hotel, are pretty constant, and a certain
amount of patronage pays them ; beyond this point profits rapidly
accumulate, and below it so do losses; small fluctuations produce
large results in the balance-sheet.

MATHEMATICS IN EVOLUTION. 209

Successive increments of difference in degree may gradually merge
and become exalted into a difference in kind. A number of pendu
lums might, if uuresisted, vibrate in an arc forever, but, if on one of
them the movements of the others are suitably concentrated, its arc
will gradually increase in amplitude until it becomes a circle.

This principle of concentration appears in organic Nature in the
physiological division of labor, and in the adaptation of every organ
ism to some particular environment which may be to it its field and
kingdom. Analogy would lead us to suppose that the different duties
of the brain are performed by special parts. So directly profitable
has the division of labor been found in manufacturing industry, that
in many cases it has been pushed to an injurious extreme, for a man
is stunted in development when all his powers of mind and body but
one remain unexercised. Specialists in art and science discover that
their highest excellence can only come with a comprehension of wide
principles and study in many various fields.

So far irom concentration being invariably useful, diffusion may
be a process incident to progress. A lump is soonest leavened by
leaven distributed throughout it, crystallization proceeds more swiftly
from separate nuclei than from a concrete mass.- Analogously, the
best, wisest, and most talented men of a people exert a larger influ
ence when scattered through it than if gathered into an over-central
ized capital, where they radiate chiefly on each other.

In the laws which have been considered thus briefly, it has ap
peared that their tendencies are continually progressive ; that, while
the capital of evolution is being increased, so also is the rate of com
pound interest by which it accumulates. It is now fitting that some
of the causes should be noticed which reduce these tendencies from
their theoretical power to the moderate activity we find them really
presenting.

A minor and unfavorable sort of natural selection is that made by
animals not carnivorous when they have a choice of food; they take
the best to be had, and leave the rest to propagate its kind. This
residue may be very bad indeed, when the total supply is scanty ; in
crowded pastures the grazing herds only permit the worst parts of the
clover to come to seed, and squirrels always first eat the best nuts
stored in their hiding-places, and any surplus that might germinate
and grow is commonly of a very poor kind. The acquisition of new
powers by an animal is usually accompanied by a gradual and injuri
ous loss of its original ones; neither the omnivorous hog nor the higher
primates can number readiness in swimming among their resources,
although their inferior ancestry doubtless could. The introduction of
machinery is steadily causing us to lose the deftness and dexterity of
the old, unaided handicrafts, yet never so much as now were knack and
skill of value, for they are indispensable to the designer and inventor in,
their work. A highly-cultivated citizen of New York, when he pene-

VOL. IX. 14

210 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

trates the wilds of the far West, must have an Indian to guide him
through prairie and forest, for the red-man s perceptions of the phe
nomena around him remain keen and almost intuitive.

Modern arts vastly outnumber ancient ones, yet do not include
them all ; antiquity possessed many, either lost by neglect or by being
secret with individuals and perishing with them, or perhaps in the ex
tirpation of small, highly-gifted communities by overwhelming bar
barous hordes.

The vast preponderance of mediocrity over exalted talent has al
ways limited the influence of intellectual greatness, and at times even
perverted it to confirm the low standard of a community s intelligence
instead of raising it. A key in metaphor is always something unlock
ing or unfolding the hidden this refers to but half the business of a
key it is also used to bind, lock up, and secrete. History furnishes
many examples of an unusual might of mind permitted, by the lack of
appreciation for its best work, not only to leave it undone, but induced
to acquire power by mystifying difficulties instead of resolving them,
and so to retard progress by an exertion of the very capacity that
might assist it.

The individuals of a community rise pretty much together, and the
voice of circumstances is not so loudly " Be your best," as " Be fit."
The limit to the practical value of greatness becomes plain if we imag
ine Kepler, while making a scientific journey, to be suddenly surround
ed by hostile Sioux. We can believe that the world may not know
some of its greatest sons, for greatness is known only when allied with
the talents of publicity and the circumstances of appreciation.

Truths and suggestions beyond the comprehension of hearers have
doubtless often been uttered in vain. Our guides in the path of
knowledge must keep within easy distance if they are to be useful.
Huyghens, the great Dutch philosopher, clearly propounded the wave-
theory of light, but it remained unnoticed in his times, to be redis
covered a century afterward, when the minds of scientific men had
been prepared to receive it.

Then, again, the very intensity of appreciation bestowed upon
genius may be hurtful, in the diversion of men of some original power
from the development of themselves into the army of mere repeaters,
imitators, and quoters. Besides, when the leaders of thought and in
vestigation have erred, as at times they inevitably must, the mistaken
opinion from the weight of a great name becomes a clog and a barrier.
Newton s emission-theory of light delayed the true explanation through
many weary years; and zoology is still suffering from the belief in
catastrophes entertained in the mighty brain of Cuvier. And, further,
physiologically, the antagonism of growth and reproduction has left
the chiefs of men either childless, as Kant, or continued in a puny
.race, as Cromwell. Talent is hereditary, but genius scarcely.

Progress is also thwarted by the sub-evolution of evil. In human

EXPERIMENTS ON HYPNOTISM. 211

societies, as mutual trust and confidence advance, they are liable to
be rudely checked from time to time as the rewards of the liar and
thief temptingly increase. The very perfection of mechanical appli
ances is used by the burglar and counterfeiter, and only a high de
gree of educated ingenuity and a world-wide mercantile good faith
could have made such a fiend as Thomassen possible. The invention
of new machinery, the manufacture of new chemicals, the extensions
of mining, and the commingling of increased travel, in their accidents
and sometimes in their baneful results in common pursuit, render the
tasks of physician and surgeon more difficult than ever before. The
complications of modern life are so great and varied, that the moral
laws do not possess the direct and simple force they had of old ; in the
surge and vortex of to-day it takes a keen intellect to separate right
from wrong, and many err because their consciences are not reenforced
by education for the new exigencies.

Evolution is underlaid, as is all change, by the greater law of the
persistence of force, ever holding the even balance through all com
plexity, maintaining throughout all a just compensation. Every new
faculty and enjoyment is earned by its equivalent of work, trouble,
or ill ; with every addition to power comes an addition to wants, to
labor, and the possibilities of pain. As the stores of the mind increase
so also do ideals craving satisfaction become higher and wider: ever
" on the isthmus of a middle state," man is at once a record of the
past and a prophecy of the future ; limited by his inheritance to defi
nite acquirement, he yet aspires, by nascent impulses, for such better
things as only his posterity can ever possess.

EXPEKIMENTS ON HYPNOTISM.

BY FRANKLIN CHASE CLARKE, M. D.

OME time ago my attention was called to two articles on " Hyp
notism in Animals," in the columns of THE POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY, in which I became very deeply interested.

For the sake of those who may have forgotten what the author,
Prof. Czermak, said in regard to these very curious phenomena as
observed in fowls, I will briefly describe his mode of proceeding, and
afterward give.the results of my own experiments.

And, first, of the crawfish experiment. If a crawfish is held firmly
in one hand, while with the other " passes " are made along the back
of the animal from head to lower extremity, the animal will become
so quieted as to allow itself to be placed in any position whatever, even
the most unnatural, without once stirring. Among people generally
1 September and November, 1873.

212 TEE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

this has been called " mesmerism " or " magnetism." Prof. Czermak
proved that neither magnetism nor mesmerism is active in the pro
duction of this phenomenon.

This case is simple enough, that of the fowls is more complex. It
has been thought that if "a chalk-line" were drawn the length of a
hen s beak, or from eye to eye across the beak, while held upon a flat
surface, she would remain perfectly quiet for more or less time when
the hands were removed. I think this is commonly believed in our
own country. Here, the chalk-line seemed intimately connected with
the phenomenon.

Kircher varied the experiment by erasing the chalk-line. He also
tied a ribbon around the legs of the fowl, and then removed it ; and
the hen still remained quiet. According to him the imagination of
the fowl plays an important part; and he laid great stress on the
acts of " tying " and " chalking."

Prof. Czermak does not attach much importance to Kircher s con
clusions, in his first lecture. But, in his second, he seems to believe
that the " tying and chalking " exert some slight influence through
the imagination. He relies mainly, however, on the " stretching
out " of the fowl s neck. Pigeons gave him more trouble in this re
spect ; and this caused him to modify his theory to some extent. He
agreed, however, that after a hen had once been subjected to this
neck-stretching process, she could be caught and placed upon the floor
or any other surface, without being again subjected to it ; that is, hold
her firmly until all struggling has ceased, and she can be placed in
almost any position without once touching the neck. Here Prof.
Czermak stops, and from this point my own experiments begin.

I first repeated many of his experiments on fowls, without using
chalk and string, and with as successful results. Afterward I varied
the mode of experimenting. Hens, ducks, cats, and canary-birds, have
thus all succumbed to this peculiar procedure at my hands, and in
every instance without my subjecting them once to " neck-stretching,"
except, of course, when I was repeating his experiments.

My first experiments, since repeated, were made upon some pet ca
nary-birds when I was quite a child, and knew nothing of this phe
nomenon. I had three of these little birds, one male and two females.
These I would often remove from their cage, hold them in my hand un
til they became quiet, and then place them upon the floor. In this
way I would often have all three lying out upon the floor perfectly
motionless. As to whether their eyes remained closec^ or not I have
no recollection. The male was very wild, and, if not watched care
fully, would fly from the floor.

This experiment I have since practised on a canary, and obtained
the same results as I did when I first noticed the peculiarity. Here
let me say again that I never touched the head or the neck of the
bird.

EXPERIMENTS ON HYPNOTISM. 213

When quite a lad, and residing in a Western State, I often observed
the farmers brought their poultry alive to market, preventing the
escape of the fowls by tying their legs together. The fowls, whenever
I saw them, were always quiet.

Prof. Czermak thought that the stretching out of the neck of the
fowl caused, in some manner, a " slight mechanical extension of cer
tain parts of the brain, .... apart from the fear which the animal
experiences," etc. 1

Now, since my last experiments I dispensed entirely with all
" neck-stretching." Prof. Czermak s explanations do not tend to throw
that light upon the subject which he believed they would; and we
must look to Kircher for a fuller explanation of this phenomenon that
of the power of the imagination.

Those parts, then, which it has been said were necessary to touch
for the success of the experiment, I have latterly entirely let alone.

I usually, after catching my fowl, hold it firmly upon the ground,
floor, etc., as the case may be, until all struggling has ceased. Then
I remove my hands, making no " passes," nor any more movements
than are necessary to take them away from the animal. Now I have
the fowl stretched out before me motionless, and breathing deeply ;
the eyes are generally open. Some hens are more easily subjected to
this experiment than others. Tame hens will allow much handling,
and are hence never good subjects. A very wild fowl is an excellent
animal upon which to make these experiments.

As in the cases instanced by Prof. Czermak, so I find different
fowls must be differently treated. Some require to be held a shorter,
some a longer time, than others. But this fact is evident, that the
animal must be held firmly until perfectly quiet.

It was only the other day, while writing the abote, I visited a
neighbor s poultry-yard to verify still further my views upon this sub
ject. After catching a huge Brahma cock, which I had great diffi
culty in holding, as he was very violent, I held him fast until he as
well as I knew he could not escape, and then took away my hands,
lay just as quiet as though my hands were holding him. But his
eyes were open and his head was somewhat raised from the ground.
In this condition I placed him in his coop, where he remained in a
most awkward position upon his side until a hen came along, and
seemed to assure him of his liberty.

Thinking that the " stretching out of the neck and bill had simply
the effect of closing the animal s eyes, I held a duck firmly in one hand,
and with the other threw my handkerchief over its head. The same
phenomena resulted, but they were of shorter duration. I next treat
a little bantam pullet in the same way ; but, being a tame and gentl*
little creature, I could do almost anything with her. One singula
feature was that, while upon her back, and the handkerchief over h
1 Vide POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY, loc, cit.

214 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

head, she began to sing. She remained very quiet, but only for a
short time.

A gentleman told me of a somewhat similar process he employed
in the West, when he had entrapped in the same box several prairie
chickens. It being difficult for him to hold more than one chicken at
a time, he would take one from the trap, hold it until quiet, shake it a
little, and then lay it upon the snow. Sometimes he would have two
or three thus lying there with their eyes closed. They would remain
in this condition long enough for him to secure the whole catch. But,
if one chanced to open its eyes when he was not looking, it would
most certainly escape.

The explanation of all this does not seem difficult. In fact, we
do not feel obliged to bring forward mesmerism, magnetism, nor even
hypnotism, as having anything to do with the phenomena. They
result simply from fear, as any one may easily prove for himself: the
animal appreciates the power acting on it, and the uselessness of
resisting the injury or the supposed injury inflicted. Here, of course,
we must allow animals a certain amount of intelligence for such per
ceptions. After the animal has made resistance, and finds itself inca
pable of removing the obstacle, it lapses into quietude, to act again
only when it supposes the restraint has been removed.

Hence, Kircher, apart from his "ribbons" and "chalk-lines," or
" remembrance of chalk-lines and ribbons," is not so far out of the way
in believing these phenomena to be due to the power of the animal s
imagination. The same thing, under certain circumstances, is ob
served in man, and every one must be aware of the power the imagi
nation often possesses over him.

In the " charming " of the lower animals by serpents we notice
similar phenomena. The so-called "charmed animal" cannot move,
from the fact that it does not believe it can. It has no power of will
to put into operation those muscles necessary to carry it from danger.
In other words, it is paralyzed with fear.

The cat playing with the mouse still further illustrates the same
principle. The mouse knows he cannot escape, for, at every attempt
to move, pussy s paw is put gently upon him, and he is pulled back
within her reach. Hence, after a while the mouse does not move at
all unless pussy " stirs him up," so to speak, with her paw.

Hence we cannot see anything very wonderful, after all, in these
phenomena : they depend wholly and only upon fear, and are but an
illustration of the power of the imagination among animals, and add to
the evidence daily accumulating of the possession by the lower ani
mals of a certain amount of intelligence.

ORGANISMS AND THEIR MEDIA. 215

ORGANISMS AND THEIR MEDIA.

BY H. CHAELTON BASTIAN, M. D., F. E. S.

HEAT and light are physical influences to which even the lowest
units of living matter respond, whether their mode of lite and
nutrition is most akin to that of plants or to that of animals. These
influences act on such organisms, either by stimulating, retarding, or
otherwise modifying the chemical changes naturally occurring in
their interior, and upon the existence of which their life depends.
Where the vital processes of the organism are stimulated by these
physical agencies, their incidence may, in many instances, become the
cause of so-called " spontaneous movements." The term, however,
as applied to movements, is a bad one since all the movements oi
an organism are alike dependent upon a series of antecedent states of
contractile and other tissues. There is some sort of foundation, it is
true, for the popular mode of expression. A movement is not said to
be " spontaneous " if it follows immediately upon some external im
pression as a cause ; the term is generally applied where the cause of
the movement is not distinctly recognizable. In some instances the
undetected or unconsidered external cause may be the incidence of a
diffused physical agent such as heat, which, by stimulating the vital
processes, seems to give rise to spontaneous movements. In other
cases so-called " spontaneous " movements are to be referred to inter
nal states or changes, whose origin is even less distinctly traceable,
to impressions, it may be, which emanate from some of the internal
organs, and thence are transmitted to ganglia in direct relation with
some of the organs of locomotion.

Heat mostly acts on organisms upon all sides alike, so that,
though it may stimulate their life-processes generally, and, in some
instances, give rise to movements, these movements are not deter
mined in one, more than in another, direction. Thus, while heat
stimulates the " to-and-fro " or the gyratory movements of bacteria,
and also renders more striking and rapid those changes of form which
all amoeboid organisms are apt to display, the movements evoked are
random, and apparently devoid of all purpose.

It is not altogether similar, however, with the influence of light.
This agent almost always, and necessarily, falls more on one side than
on another ; and consequently it often suffices to induce movements
to be made in definite directions, by the lower forms of life, just as it
causes definite and responsive movements to be executed by certain
parts of higher plants, which come fully under its influence. In each
case the movement, or altered position, is due to some nutritive
change ; that is, to some alteration, whatever its nature, in the ac
tivity of the life-processes taking place in the part impressed by the

216 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

light. So that, whether we have to do with the movement of a sun
flower, or with the locomotions of minute living units, the essential
mode of production of the movement is probably similar. Of the
actual locomotions of minute living units under the influence of light
many instances might be cited ; it will suffice, however, to mention
the fact that any green zoospores which may have been uniformly
diffused through the water are very apt, when the vessel containing
them is placed near a window, to collect on the surface of the water
at the part where most light falls upon them. Minute animal or
ganisms are, however, often affected quite differently by this agent.
They are frequently caused to move away from, rather than toward,
its source ; so that the creatures thus impressed " seek " the shade
rather than the glare of sunlight.

The action of such influences and the production of such move
ments form the beginnings or substrata, as it were, of other phe
nomena with which we are now more particularly concerned. The
unilateral influence of light and the movements to or from its source
to which it may give rise afford a connecting link between diffused
causes like heat, which, by affecting the general activity of the vital
processes in the organisms, may lead to purely random movements,
and those more localized influences now to be considered, to which
the various definite or responsive movements of organisms are attrib
utable.

The first, because it is the simplest, of these localized influences to
be considered is a shock or mechanical impact of some kind, falling
upon the external surface of the organism. This is the primordial
or most general of all the modes by which the surface of an organism
is impressible, and its sensitivity to such stimuli is both in the stage
of impression and the stage of reaction closely akin to the general
organic irritability of protoplasm which, indeed, unquestionably
constitutes its starting-point. This mode of impression, moreover, is
one which tends to establish a correspondence between the organism
and the most common events or properties of the medium in which
it lives and moves. It is consequently the mode of impressibility
most extensively called into play among all the lower forms of
animal life. And although the whole surface of an organism, or the
greater part of it, in one of the simple animals to which we are refer
ring, may be more or less impressible to shocks or impacts from con
tact with surrounding bodies, it often happens that such impressions
more frequently fall upon, and are more readily received by, certain
appendages situated at the anterior extremity of the animal, in close
proximity to the mouth. Such specialized parts or tactile appendages
are known as papillae, setae, tentacles, antennae, or palpi, according to
the forms which they assume in different animals.

Why such organs are developed so frequently at the anterior
extremity of the animal, and in the neighborhood of the mouth rather

ORGANISMS AND THEIR MEDIA. 2 i 7

than on other parts of the body, is not difficult to explain. What
ever the mode by which they are evoked or called into being (and
the most opposite views may be entertained upon this subject), it
seems obvious that, if organs of this kind are to be present at all, they
should occur in situations where they might be put to most use. In
an animal accustomed to active locomotions, the mouth is, with only
a very few exceptions, situated on that part of the body which is
habitually directed forward. The anterior extremity thus comes to
be the part of the body which is brought most into converse with its
environment; and, of the diverse objects impinging against it, or
against which it impinges, some are of a nature to serve the organism
as food, and some are not. A higher degree of impressibility springs
up, therefore, in this situation, where the parts are necessarily exercised
so largely with impressions corresponding with food and with others
having an opposite relation. It should not surprise us, therefore, to
find among the lower animals that the most specialized tactile or
gans are found in the immediate neighborhood of the mouth. Such
organs may be, and are in fact, not unfrequently both tactile and pre
hensile ; though this is more especially the case in sedentary forms of
life, like the hydra, the sea-anemone, or some of the tentaculated
worms. The tentaculse of the latter animals would seem to be pos
sessed of an extremely high degree of impressibility, if we are to
judge by the report of one who devoted much attention to the study
of this class of organisms the late Dr. Williams, of Swansea. He
says: "It is not easy, for those who have never enjoyed the spectacle
of the feat of touch performed by the tentaculated worms, to esti
mate adequately the extreme acuteness of the sensibility which re
sides at the extremities of the living threads with which the head and
sides of the body are garnished. They select, reject, move toward,
and recede from, minute external objects with all the precision of
microscopic animals gifted with the surest eagle-sight."

But it often happens that the solid bodies serving as food are in a
measure soluble, so that, in animal organisms comparatively low in the
scale of complexity, some of the tactile structures within or around
the mouth may undergo a further specialization by which they become
able to discriminate and respond to impressions of a slightly different
nature. These parts become sensitive to a more relined kind of con
tact, such as may be yielded by certain dissolved elements of the food
substance, whose local action may be attended by some slight chemi
cal change in the tissue of the organ. Impressions are thus produced
whereby the " sapidity " or flavor of bodies is appreciated, and such
impressions gradually become associated with definite related move
ments.

No distinct organ of " taste " or specialized gustatory surface is
known to occur among invertebrate animals, except in insects and in
such higher mollusca as gasteropods and cephalopods ; although such

218 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

a mode of impressibility does, doubtless, exist in many other of the
lower forms of life. Impressions of the two orders already referred to
more or less distinct from one another are those by which alone
multitudes of the lowest forms of animal life, such as polyps, medusa)
and various kinds of worms, appear to hold converse with the outside
world. Touches and tastes are the names which we apply to the sub
jective effects of such impressions ; and, though it is impossible at
present wholly to ignore this point of view, or to use language which
is not colored by it, I do not now wish to say anything with regard
to the nature or intensity of the feelings that may be associated with
corresponding impressions in the lower animals. The reader must for
the present look rather to the objective effects of these impressions, and
in so doing he will learn that these become organically associated with
a nervous mechanism by whose intermediation they are able to evoke
distinctive movements of a responsive nature.

Seeing, however, that tactile and gustatory impressions can only
be made by actual contact of external bodies with the specialized
parts of an organism, such impressions are not of a kind to excite
movements in quest of food ; although they may lead to correlated
movements of parts adjacent to those which. are touched, as when all
the tentacles of a sea-anemone close round a body that has come into
contact with some one of them. This effect is due to a radiation of
the primitive stimulus, and we may see in such a set of actions only
a more rapid and slightly more complex result than is known to fol
low the irritation of one of the peripheral tentacles on the leaf of a
sun-dew. In the latter case the bending of the tentacle actually irri
tated is slowly followed by the bending of others under the influence
of an internally diffused stimulus.

Movements in actual quest of food may, however, be excited in
other animal organisms by impressions which suffice to bring them
into relation with more or less distant bodies. The way is paved for
this result when some portion of the anterior and upper surface of the
animal, in which aggregations of pigment occur, becomes more than
usually sensitive to light. A dark body passing in front of such a re
gion gives rise to certain molecular changes therein, and these molec
ular changes differing among themselves become capable of exciting
distinctive impressions in the organism which it gradually becomes
attuned to discriminate. The power of discrimination in this, as in
all other cases, is indicated by the organism s capability of responding
to impressions by definite muscular movements as when the oyster,
with the valves of its shell apart, instantly closes them if a shadow is
projected over certain sensitive pigment-specks or so-called "eyes"
at the edge of its mantle.

This beginning of visual impressions truly enough shows itself as a
merely exalted appreciation of tactile impressions ; and, inasmuch as
such an appreciation of the presence of near bodies would in so many

ORGANISMS AND THEIR MEDIA. 2 i 9

instances be quickly followed by a more gross mechanical contact, the
rudimentary visual impression is, as Spencer says, a kind of " antici
patory touch." From this simple beginning, in which bodies only
slightly separated from the impressible foci excite certain general or
only vaguely specialized impressions corresponding to light and shade
therein, the organs of sight and their impressibility gradually become
more and more elaborate. To rudimentary aggregations of pigment
transparent media are added, which condense the light on these im
pressible patches, and these media in other organisms are sufficiently
like a lens to be adequate to form a definite image of an external body
on the layer of pigment, which, on its other side, is in contact with
a nerve-expansion communicating with a contiguous ganglion. Nu
merous simple structures of this kind may exist apart from one another,
as in many bivalve mollusks, or they may be far more numerous arid
closely aggregated so as to form such compound eyes as are met with
in crustaceans and in insects. Or individual ocelli may be perfected,
as in spiders, or lower Crustacea, though most notably of all among
the cuttle-fish tribe in which two movable eyes are met with, whose
organization is just as perfect as that of the eyes of fishes.

The difference in degree and range of sensitiveness existing be
tween the simple " eye-specks " of some of the lower worms and the
elaborate organs existing in the highest insects and mollusks is enor
mous. The range and keenness of vision become progressively ex
tended, so that creatures with more perfect eyes are capable of receiv
ing and appreciating impressions from objects more and more distant,
and the various actions which become established in response to im
pressions habitually made upon such sensitive surfaces increase enor
mously in number, variety, and complexity. The relation existing
between the keenness of the sense of sight and the powers of locomo
tion of insects has long been recognized by naturalists. Prof. Owen,
for instance, thus alludes to it : "The high degree in which the power
of discerning distant objects is enjoyed by the flying insects corre
sponds with their great power of traversing space. The few excep
tional cases of blind insects are all apterous, and often peculiar to
the female sex, as in the glow-worm, cochineal-insect, and parasitic
stylops."

The various actions of insects and of invertebrate animals gener
ally are, however, found to be easily capable of classification. They
are, in the main, subservient to the pursuit and capture of prey, to
the avoidance of enemies, to the union of the sexes, or to the care of
their young. To such ends are their various motions, whether occa
sional or habitual, more or less directly related. Nothing is here said,
however, as to the extent to which such ends are realized by the ani
mals themselves.

In vision, as I have said, we have to do with a refinement of the
sense of touch, whereby the animal becomes sensible of impressions

220 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

produced by " waves " of light emanating from a distance, and is thus
brought into mediate contact with certain distant objects. A re
finement of the organs of taste may also occur whereby bodies possess
ing sapid qualities are capable of impressing organisms still at a dis
tance. Just as vision, in fact, is, in its most elementary phases, a sort
of " anticipatory touch," so is smell a kind of anticipatory taste. Yet
the two cases are not altogether similar. In vision, the contact if it
may be so termed with the distant body is mediate, through the in
tervention of ethereal undulations ; while in smell we have to do with
a case of immediate contact, not with the distant body itself of course,
but with extremely minute particles which it gives off on all sides.
An " emission " theory serves to explain the diffusion of odors, though
it will not hold for the diffusion of light. From what I have said it
may be inferred that, as regards the delicacy of their respective physi
cal causes, the sense of smell occupies an intermediate position between
taste and sight.

It is regarded as a matter of certainty by naturalists that such
creatures as spiders, Crustacea, insects, and the higher mollusks, are
capable of being impressed in some way by odors, and that their
actions are to a certain extent regulated by such impressions. We
have, however, no definite knowledge concerning the parts of the sur
face which in these, and perhaps in still lower organisms, are attuned
to receive such influences. Although a rudimentary sense of smell
seems unquestionably to be possessed by such aquatic forms of the
invertebrata as Crustacea and the higher mollusks, it is, perhaps, a
sense-endowment which generally exists in a more developed and
more varied form among air-breathing animals. In whatever forms
of life it may be met with, however, the sense of smell seems to be very
largely indeed related to the detection and capture of food ; so, that,
in these relations, it comes to the aid of the already-existing senses of
sight, touch, and taste, though it has the peculiarity of being scarcely
otherwise called into activity among the invertebrata.

Although we have no positive knowledge concerning the situation
of the organs of smell among invertebrate animals, there is good reason
for believing that in Crustacea they are to be found at the base of the
antennules; that in cephalopods they are represented by two little
fossaB in the neighborhood of the eyes ; and that in insects a power of
appreciating odors is possibly possessed either by the antennae them
selves, or by a pair of fossre near their bases. Another cephalic organ
has also been referred to as possibly endowed with a power of being
impressed by odors. Thus Owen says : "The application, by the com
mon house-fly, of the sheath of its proboscis to particles of solid or
liquid food, before it imbibes them, is an action closely analogous to
the scenting of food by the nose in higher animals ; and, as it is by the
odorous qualities, much more than by the form of the surface, that we
judge of the fitness of substances for food, it is more reasonable to

ORGANISMS AND THEIR MEDIA. 221

conclude that, in this well-known action of our commonest insect, it is
scenting, not feeling, the drop of milk or grain of sugar."

Looking to the importance of this endowment in reference to the
perception of food, and also looking to the situation of the organs of
smell in all the vertebrate animals, there is good reason for believing
that any similar organs of sense which may exist among invertebrate
organisms would be found in close proximity to the mouth, so as to
permit of that joint or associated activity between the sense of taste
and the sense of smell which is met with in all higher forms of life.

As already pointed out, there are also obvious reasons why the
principal specialized tactile organs that may present themselves in
lower animals should be found in the neighborhood of the mouth ;
and for similar reasons, if for no other, the anterior extremity of the
body, or the upper surface near this anterior extremity, is the site in
which visual organs might be used with most advantage by their
possessor. To an active animal, visual organs would not only be more
useful at the anterior extremity of the body than elsewhere in relation
to its food-taking movements, but also in reference to all other uses
to which such appendages may be applied during active locomotions
from place to place. To this situation of the eyes only two or three
exceptions are met with among animals endowed with powers of loco
motion, and these deviations are explicable by reference to the habits
and modes of life of the organisms in question. 1

The part of the body bearing the mouth, and the various sensory
organs already named, is familiar to all as the " head " of the animal ;
and it is owing to the fact of the clustering of sense-organs on this
part of the body that the head contains internally a number of nerve-
ganglia in connection therewith. This aggregate mass of ganglia
constitutes the brain of the invertebrate animals, which, as we shall
find, differs much in different classes of animals, not only in disposition
and in size, but also in respect to the relative pi*oportion of its com
ponent parts. The size of the respective ganglia, indeed, necessarily
varies in accordance with the relative importance and complexity of
the several sense- endowments already mentioned those of touch,
taste, smell, and vision. The ganglia thus constituting the brain of
invertebrate animals are not only connected with their own particular
external organs, but, in addition, we find the several ganglia of the
two sides brought into relation among themselves and with their fel-

1 In some spiders the ocelli are situated rather far back on each side of the cephalo-
thorax, but, as Siebold says : " The disposition and the direction of the organs are in
relation with the mode of life of these animals, some of which wait for their prey hidden
in chinks of a wall within silken tubes which they have constructed, while others hold
themselves motionless in the centre of their webs, or wander from side to side, a mode of
life which obliges them to look in all directions " (" Manuel d Anatomic comparative,"
tome i., p. 308). According to Prof. Rolleston also in the crustacean genera Euphausia,
and Thysanopoda : " Eyes may be, contrary to the otherwise invariable rule in Arthro-
poda, found elsewhere than upon the head" (" Forms of Animal Life," p. cxxi.).

222 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

lows by means of connecting fibres, while they are also more distantly
united with other nerve-ganglia in different parts of the body by means
of commissural fibres.

But another special sense-endowment remains to be referred to.
This has to do with the organism s power of appreciating sounds or
" auditory " expressions a power which is, however, probably pos
sessed in only a low degree by most invertebrate animals ; since, even
in the most perfect form of the organ of hearing among them we
have to do with a very rudimentary structure. In this respect there
is a great difference between the sense of sight and the sense of hear
ing. While the eye of the cuttle-fish attains a degree of elaboration
that does not fall so very far short of the most perfect form which it
displays among vertebrate animals, the organ of hearing, as a mere
organ, in all forms of the invertebrata is remarkable for its simplicity,
and remains notably inferior to the highest type attained by this sen-
sorial apparatus which, with its nerve-connections, becomes so enor
mously developed in many mammals and in man.

Like the sense of sight and the sense of smell, that of hearing, even
in its simplest grades, serves to bring the organism into relation with
more or less distant bodies, so long as they are sufficiently sonorous-
to transmit the so-called " sound " vibrations through water or air to
the sensitive organs which become attuned to receive such impres
sions.

An auditory organ does not seem to be present at all certainly
none has as yet been detected or inferred to exist in many of the low
er forms of life ; while in other animals, though inferred to exist, it
remains as yet unrecognized. This is the case, for instance, with the
majority of Crustacea, spiders, and insects. Judging from the instances
in which an organ of hearing has been detected in mollusks, and in a
very few representatives of the classes above named, it seems (however
novel the information may be to many readers) that it is an organ of
special sense which is not habitually, or even usually, found in the
head, and in direct relation with one of the ganglia composing the
brain. Further remarks, however, on this subject must be deferred
until a brief description has been given of the nature and distribution
of the nervous system in some of the principal groups of invertebrate
animals.

These, then, are the commonly-received modes by which organisms
are impressed from without, and by which they attune themselves to
the conditions and actions in their medium. It was recognized by
Democritus, and other ancient writers, that they are all of them deriv
atives, or more specialized modes of a primordial common sensibility,
such as is possessed by the entire outer surface of the organism. Touch,
taste, smell, vision, and hearing, are sense-endowments, having their
origin in organs formed by a gradual differentiation of certain portions
of the external or surface layer of the body that is, of the part in

ORGANISMS AND THEIR MEDIA. 223

which common sensibility is most frequently called into play. And
just as this common sensibility is a crude or general sense of touch, so
are the several special senses only more or less highly-refined modes of
the same sense-endowment. In the case of special tactile organs, of
organs of taste and organs of smell, the several contacts between the
animal and the body which impresses it, though differing in their deli
cacy or refinement, are still immediate ; while in the case of the or
gans of hearing and the organs of vision the contact between the sensi
tive surfaces and the impressing body is mediate, by the intervention
in the one case of vibrations transmitted through water or air, and,
in the other, of vibrations from the often far-distant luminous body,
through an intermediate and all-pervading ether.

The movements of locomotion, or of parts of the organism which
become established in correspondence with these various impressions,
slowly increase in number, definiteness, and complexity. Such re
sponsive movements, however, are found, as a general rule, to have
the effect of prolonging the action of any influences which previous
individual or race experiences have proved to be favorable to the life
and well-being of the organism ; and, on the other hand, of cutting
short or avoiding influences which past individual or race experiences
have proved to be contrary to its general well-being. The capture
and swallowing of food are ends to which a very large proportion
indeed of the definite motions of most of the lower organisms are
directed ; and this direction of their energies is only a special case to
be included under the rule above indicated; just as efforts to escape
from predatory neighbors are other, though opposite, instances of the
same rule.

In addition to the various modes of impressibility by external in
fluence which we have hitherto been considering, there are certain
internal modes of impressibility due to changes in the condition of
internal parts of the organism. These are commonly spoken of as
divisible into two categories : 1. The impressions derivable from, or
in some way attendant upon, the contractions of muscles; and, 2. Im
pressions emanating from one or other of the various sets of internal
organs, such as the alimentary canal and its appendages, the respira
tory organs, the genital organs, or other internal parts.

With the first set of impressions we have at present nothing to do.
They differ altogether from others, whether of external or internal
origin, by the fact that they follow or accompany movements whose
intensity they are supposed to measure, and do not themselves lead
to movements. Granting that such impressions may have a real
existence, it is obvious we can know nothing about them among
invertebrate animals, if they have only a subjective existence, and do
not cause an efflux of molecular movements along outgoing nerve-
fibres.

The second category of internal impressions those emanating

224 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

from the viscera are undoubtedly very important in relation to ani
mal life generally. In part they have the effect of causing contrac
tions of related muscular portions of the viscera as when the presence
of food in certain portions of the alimentary canal excites impressions,
followed by contraction whereby the food is propelled farther on.
In part, however, they act upon the principal nerve-ganglia those
constituting the brain and thus excite the external sense-organs
with which they are connected to a higher order of activity. Visceral
impressions may cause an animal eagerly to pursue food, or to be alert
in discovering its mate ; so that in these, and in many other instances,
internal impressions, reaching the cerebral ganglia, would seem to
excite a higher receptivity to certain kinds of external impressions
and a corresponding readiness to respond on the part of the moving
organs whose activity is related to such external impressions.

SCIENCE AND THE LOGICIANS.

BY DAVID BOYD, A. M.

"TTNDER the above heading may be comprehended the most of
^J what we are desirous of saying in review of the article entitled
" Science and Religion," by Dr. Charles F. Deems, in THE POPULAR
SCIENCE MONTHLY for February.

We first run counter to the author upon the definition of science
taken from Sir William Hamilton s " Logic." Says he : " We can all
afford to agree upon the definition rendered by the only man who has
been found in twenty-two centuries to add anything important to the
imperial science of logic. Sir William Hamilton defines science as a
complement of cognitions having in point of form the character of
logical perfection, in point of matter the character of real truth."

In the first place, Hamilton is not the only man since Aristotle
that has been found to add anything important to logic. There has
been a whole department, and by far the most valuable department
of that science, brought into existence during the last three hundred
years. We have reference to inductive logic, or scientific method.
Hamilton had nothing to do with the creation of this department.
His additions are wholly confined to the barren field of formal logic.
The other department is the result of the joint labors of Bacon, Gali
leo, Newton, Herschel (John), Mill, Bain, and Jevons.

Hamilton s additions to formal logic consist chiefly in what is
known as the quantification of the predicate, and the moods and
figures consequent upon this. There is much difference of opinion as
to the value of these additions. Mill and Bain affirm that by the
quantification of the predicate no new ordistinct meaning is conveyed,

SCIENCE AND THE LOGICIANS. 22 $

nor is there even a more intelligent rendering of an old meaning. In
our own opinion the distinction between the comprehension and the
extension of propositions is important ; but it is paraded with too
much ostentation, and treated with too much prolixity. Hamilton s
great virtue is his clearness of statement and exhaustiveness of treat
ment. His method is admirable. Sometimes, however, there is too
much display of his own erudition.

But even in the domain of formal logic Hamilton is not the only
one that has within the present century made important additions.
Prominent among these is De Morgan. Especially valuable are his
discussions upon the different values of the logical copula. Prof.
Boole has also made important additions to the syllogism, and has
most ably supported the theory of the -common ground occupied by
logic and the mathematics. Prof. Bam also, in pure logic, has made
a most important generalization. Hamilton s three laws of thought,
namely, identity, noncontradiction, and excluded middle, he has re
duced to the single law or canon of consistency.

So much for the assertion that Hamilton was the only man in
twenty-two centuries to- make any important additions to the imperial
science of logic. Like enough the doctor would exclude scientilic
method from the imperial science. Perhaps he regards formal logic
alone fit to wear the purple. But even here we see that there can be
no such claim set up. If, however, he could claim this distinction, it
would afford no reason for receiving his definition of science without
question. That should stand or fall wholly upon its own merits.
The greatest of men are not without personal biases. It is well known
that Hamilton had a metaphysical bias. In his work on metaphysics
the first three lectures are occupied in attempting to prove the supe
riority of mental science over natural science. He quotes with much
approval this ancient declaration, " On earth there is nothing great
but man, in man there is nothing great but mind." This being his
known bias, before examining the definition, an investigator of Na
ture, a believer in scientific method, might have thought that it
was by no means certain that he " could afford " to take it simply
on his authority. However, when we come to the definition itself,
the matter of it is well enough. But we have the temerity to suggest
that its form might be improved without changing the substance. It
is too pedantic and prolix. It is not in a shape easily to be remem
bered. We would render it thus : Science is real knowledge logically
classified. But, as Bain remarks, positive definition is not thorough
enough. As he says in his second canon on definition, it is needful
to assemble for comparison the particulars of the contrasting or op
posed notion. We can never know distinctly what a notion is until
we contrast it with its opposite. Knowing is discriminating. What
is not science ? What is the other notion that lies side by side with
it in contrast, but contained under the same genus ? Now, if we

VOL. IX. 15

226 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

define science simply as knowledge or " complement of cognitions,"
it is contrasted with feeling or emotion. Its correlatives are produc
tions designed to please, such as poetry, painting, or the fine arts
generally.

If religion be regarded as proceeding wholly from the emotional
nature, it may be contrasted with science and classed among aesthetic
conceptions. But narrowing the definition further by qualifying
knowledge by the terms " logically classified," we then have science
as contrasted with or opposed to particular knowledge, or knowledge
imperfectly classified. Qualifying further by placing the word real
before knowledge, we have it contrasted with error or not genuine
knowledge. By reading Hamilton, it will be seen that error is his
antithesis to his real truth in the definition. But hypotheses are not
error, since they are not held as truth. The distinguishing character
of error is that, while false in fact, is is supposed to be true completely.
Hypotheses are neither genuine truth nor errors, so long as they are
held merely as such. They lie upon the border-lands of truth and
error, and Hamilton s definition cannot banish them completely from
the domain of science. They are properly allowed to hover around
its borders. But we totally disagree with Dr. Deems as to the value
of these " guesses " at truth. Says he, " A professor of religion has
just as much right to guess as a professor of science, and the latter
no more right than the former, though he may have more skill."
Now, as to the right, there can be no dispute, but, as to the value of
the guesses, this better skill makes all the difference in the world.
Prof. Huxley is right in his estimate of guesses. Says he, " Do not
allow yourself to be misled by the common notion that an hypothesis
is untrustworthy because it is an hypothesis. What more have we to
guide us in nine-tenths of the most important affairs of daily life than
hypotheses, and often very ill-based ones ? So then in science, where
the evidence of an hypothesis is subjected to the most rigid examina
tion, we may rightly pursue the same course. You may have hypoth
eses and hypotheses. A man may say, if he like, that the moon is
made of green cheese ; that is an hypothesis. But another man, who
has devoted a great deal of time and attention to the subject, and
availed himself of the most powerful telescopes, and the results of the
observations of others, declares that it is probably composed of mate
rials very similar to those of which the earth is made up ; and this
also is an hypothesis." You perceive that it makes a good deal of
difference both as to who guesses and as to what is guessed. Indeed,
so many scientific hypotheses have been verified in the face of the
opposing theological hypotheses, that there begins to be a strong
presumption in their favor before verification. Nor is it strange that
we should be led to regard them as highly probable. The investiga
tor of Nature, familiar with her processes and her laws, founds these
guesses upon broad and deep analogies.

SCIENCE AND THE LOGICIANS. 22 ;

But we have only to follow the reverend doctor a few pages, until
we find that hypotheses, so far from being extra-scientific, wholly
make up our science. He mounts Hamilton s definition for the pur
pose of trampling upon scientific hypotheses. But, in his zeal for nar
rowing the sphere of science, he arrives at the remarkable conclusion
that " all science is purely a classification of probabilities." He has
at length kicked the definition completely from under him, and
remounted a platform entirely composed of hypotheses. He, how
ever, is careful not to say, "It is certain that there are no certainties."
Still he leaves us wholly in the dark as to where may be found
those " very few certainties " which it appears to him God has seen
fit to show us, " more for the purpose of furnishing the idea than for
any practical purpose." The God of the modern divine has still
about him a touch of the jealousy of the Zeus of ^Eschylus. He
would have chained to the rocks the modern seeker after hidden
knowledge, the invader of his own domain of certainties.

We say that we are left completely in the dark as to where are
to be found those few certainties which God has seen fit to show us
as specimens. We are assured that they are not to be found in sci
ence. This is only classified probabilities. The " imperial science of
logic " has been demolished with the rest. We wonder whether it is
because science embraces only real truth that it is uncertain or prob
able, or is it owing to its methodical logical arrangement that it has
acquired this character ? He should remember that most people have
faculties called memories, that last them through several pages of
reading, and that there is a chance for mediate or remote contradic
tions to be detected.

Again, in his zeal to prove that all science and religion stand upon
the common basis of faith, he overleaps himself, and gives us as the
results of his logic, "Ex nihilo geometria fit." So I suppose we may
be allowed to say likewise, " Ex, nihilo religiofit" Is that what he
started out to prove ? No, it was only this very sensible proposition,
that " we can acquire no knowledge by our logical understanding with
out faith in the laws of mental operations." This simply amounts to
saying that we cannot consistently believe in the products of think
ing except we believe in faculties of thinking. We suppose that no
one doubts that. But believing that by no means involves the as
sumption that science or knowledge rests upon the same basis as
religious faith. It is a very different thing to believe in our own
experiences, feelings, sensations, observations, comparisons, memories,
representations, etc., and to believe in certain fundamental religious
dogmas, as, for example, " God is an infinite person." God is three
infinite persons. The second of these three infinite persons, which all
make one infinite person, is now sitting in heaven upon a throne on
the right hand of the first infinite person, neither of which has any
parts, but all three make one indivisible unity. Most men will con-

223 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tinue to think that the above propositions differ very much from the
two fundamental axioms of mathematics," Equals added to equals
and the sums are equal ; and two things each equal to a third are
equal each to each." In denying these, we must deny the laws of
thought, the powers of the mind in distinguishing a thing from what
it is not, or from that which it stands in contrast with, or in opposition
to. All the other axioms of geometry, as Bain has shown, are either
verbal propositions or can be derived from these, since subtraction is
implicated in addition, multiplication derived from addition, and di
vision implicated in multiplication.

The absurd conclusion at which the doctor arrives, namely, " Ex,
nihilo geometria fit" ought to show him that to begin with a meta
physical point was hardly the proper way to build up the science of
geometry. Of course, it being nothing, the geometry that he con
structed out of it, no matter how many intermediate propositions in
tervened, must be nothing. Suppose we try the analytic method of
arriving at definitions. But first we are compelled to controvert
the assertion that it is necessary to believe the three following propo
sitions, or there can be no geometry, namely, that " space is infinite
in extent, that it is infinitely divisible, and that it is infinitely con
tinuous."

Now, I deny that geometry has anything to do with infinity ; in
deed, the doctor, before he gets through, says even more than this.
" Science," says he, " has the finite for its domain, religion the infinite."
What we have to do with in geometry is simply the relations of the
attributes Wpropria of definite extension. But as definite extension
has for its correlative indefinite extension, we need to understand it in
a sort of general way. Experience furnishes us with the mutually-
implicated notions of the contained and the containing, the bounded
and the bounding. We cannot separate them completely in thought.
The assertion of the one implicates the other. What lies without any
extension is space indefinite space. Simply that it is outside of our
particular part of space is all that we have to do with it : whether it
is infinite or not is none of the business of the geometrician. Indefi
nite extension, or the notion of space in general, is very different
from the notion, if there be such a one, the words infinite space would
connote. Indefinite space is comprehensible in the only sense that it
needs to be comprehended, namely, as the correlative of extension or
definite space.

This brings us to the genesis of the definitions of geometry. Ex
perience makes us at first acquainted with extended bodies. This
acquaintance goes no further than a knowledge of their attributes, or
propria. All these properties come into the mind as a confused
aggregate ; it is not clearly perceived as a whole made up of distinct
parts. The relation of part to part is perceived only in a vague and
general manner. The work of the geometrician is to analyze these

SCIENCE AND THE LOGICIANS. 229

parts, and to establish their exact relations. He compares, adds, sub
tracts, multiplies, divides. In order to communicate his knowledge
of the relation of parts, he must use words ; these words he must de
fine, if their meaning is not obvious to the one instructed. But if the
property is of a primary nature, and given in the experience of every
one, there is no need of definition, and indeed no rational definition
can be given. This is true alike of the notions, extension, surface,
line, and point. Each of these is as much a datum of simple experi
ence as the notion of white or blue ; and it is just as absurd to at
tempt to define the one class of concepts as the other. They may be,
however, brought out a little more closely by contrasting the correla
tives in the manner that we have attempted with extension and indefi
nite space. Thus surface may be contrasted with the solid volume,
or definite space, of which it forms the boundary ; line with surface,
of which it in turn is the boundary ; and, lastly, point with line, of
which it is the termination or the where of separation. It is not true
that the existence of forms depends upon the motions of points.
Forms are given in experience through sensation. A point is the
ultimate step in the analysis of boundaries. It is sheer nonsense to
attempt to construct lines out of points, surfaces out of lines, and
volumes out of surfaces. All that it is necessary to say further upon
this subject is, that the differentiae of the higher mathematics are not
nothings, but quantities the least conceivable. The least conceivable
portion of a line is not a point ; the least conceivable portion of a
surface is not a line ; the least conceivable portion of a volume is not
a surface, for the simple reason that no portion of a thing can be its
boundary.

Now, in conclusion, we say that geometry rests upon no aifirma-
tions in respect to the infinite, but, on the contrary, it is wholly occu
pied about the relations of the finite in space. We have the assurance
from the doctor that the finite is the sphere of every science, while the
sphere of religion is the infinite. This certainly would cast theology
out of the sphere of science, for the doctor has laid down as one of
its fundamental concepts, " God is an infinite person." Sir William
Hamilton s definition, in its very first clause, also excludes theology
from science, if we take himself as authority for the meaning of the
term cognition. Every cognition is simply a perception of relation.
The infinite and absolute equal God are not thinkable. Hence the
ology can have no " complement of cognition " out of which to classify
a science.

In another place we find that the cry of cgnflict has its origin i:
confounding theology with religion. " Theology is not religion any
more than psychology is human life, or zoology animal life, or botany
plant-life. Theology is objective, religion is subjective. Theology is
the scientific classification of what is known of God; religion is a
loving obedience to God s commandments. Every religious man

2 3 o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

must have a theology, but it does not follow that every theologian
must have a religion. There may be a conflict between theology and
some other sciences, and religious men may deplore it," etc. Now, in
our opinion, if every religious man must have a theology, and if his the
ology be in conflict with science, he must either be in conflict in opin
ion with that science or abandon his theology. But the truth is, that
the real, actual conflict arises from the religious element. The con
flict of opinion is in the theology of a man ; the conflict, as it appears
upon the stage of the world s history in acts and deeds, has sprung
from the religious nature, even as defined by Dr. Deems. A man may
hold what theological views you please and make no disturbance in
the world, provided he does not think much about his duty in obeying
the commands, word, or will of God, all of which are a part of his
theology. For instance, one of the commands of God, as contained
in his word, and to which he should render a " loving obedience," is
" Suffer not a witch to live." Now, a man may believe in that com
mand simply as a dogma, but, being indifferent in the matter of ren
dering a loving obedience, he will not let it influence his conduct, and
so will make no effort to hunt up and have witches burnt. If, on the
contrary, he has a loving obedience to God s word, he will trample
upon every kindly feeling and instinct of his nature rather than not
have the command carried out.

Accordingly, we find that it has been the pious, the sincere, the
believers in duty, those wishing to render a loving obedience to God s
word, or what they thought was his word, who have in every age
been the persecutors. But you say that they were acting under a
delusion. They mistook what was the word of God. But how are
they to know what is his word, if direct commands like the foregoing
are not his ? Besides, if there was a mistake, it was in their theology,
and not in their religion ; that only impelling them to lovingly obey
God s commands as they knew them. Religion is but an impulse, a
blind instinct. It knows nothing about weighing and comparing opin
ions. Theology furnishes it with these. If these are bad, its conduct
will be bad; if good, the conduct will be good. All it knows is
blind obedience zeal to do the will of God as it knows it ; and the
pretended science, which alone can give it guidance, is a science of
the Unknowable, the Infinite, the Absolute.

We will close with a quotation from Lecky s " History of Ration
alism," in reference to Luther : " He was subject to many strange hal
lucinations and vibrations of judgment, which he invariably attributed
to the direct agency of Satan. Satan became, in consequence, the
dominating conception of his life. In every critical event, in every
mental perturbation, he recognized satanic power. Fools, deformed
persons, the blind and the dumb, were possessed by devils. Physi
cians, indeed, attempted to explain these infirmities by natural causes ;
but those physicians were ignorant men they did not know all the

SKETCH OF BENJAMIN THOMPSON. 231

power of Satan. Every form of disease might be produced by Satan
or his agents, the witches ; and none of the infirmities to which Luther
was liable were natural ; but his earache was peculiarly diabolical.
Hail, thunder, and plagues, are all the direct consequence of the inter
vention of spirits. Many of those persons who were supposed to have
committed suicide had in reality been seized by the devil and stran
gled by him, as the traveler is strangled by the robber. The devil
could transport men through the air. He could beget children ; and
Luther himself had come in contact with one of them. An intense
love of children was one of the most amiable characteristics of the
great Reformer ; but on this occasion he most earnestly recommended
the reputed relatives to throw the child into the river, in order to free
their house from the presence of the devil. As a natural consequence
of these modes of thought, witchcraft did not present the slightest
improbability to his mind. In strict accordance with the spirit of his
age, he continually asserted the existence and frequency of the crime,
and emphatically proclaimed the duty of burning witches."

We see what a loving obedience to the word of God led Luther to
recommend. That this spirit has died out, is wholly due to the
advancement of science and rationalism, and not to any change in
the religious spirit per se, or to any different interpretation of the
Bible. The witchcraft is there, as it was in the days of Luther, and
the injunction not to suffer witches to live is there, and neither has
been explained any better than it was in the middle ages. But
the researches of the investigators of Nature have gradually driven
these notions out of the minds of men, and stamped them with the
opprobrium of absurdities.

GREELEY, COLORADO, February 14, 18*76.

SKETCH OF BENJAMIN THOMPSON (COUNT RUMFORD).

IN his late work, " Recent Advances in Physical Science," Prof.
Tait, of the University of Edinburgh, has attempted a history of
dynamical science, or rather of the doctrine of the conservation of
energy. Though this great doctrine is recent in its completer develop
ment, Prof. Tait holds that it is implied in Newton s laws of motion,
and that Newton only failed to grasp it in its modern form for lack of
certain experiments. Where Newton broke down, there the subject
remained for more than a hundred years, no physicist appearing who
could take up the research at that point and carry it on. Prof. Tait
says that " what Newton really wanted was to know what becomes
of work when it is spent in friction." The experiments thus needed
to open the way to a new era in the doctrine of forces were supplied

2 3 2

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

i

SKETCH OF BENJAMIN THOMPSON. 233

by a self-educated American, the subject of this sketch. The news
papers say that he is dropping out of memory in this age, and was in
his day a distinguished smoke-doctor and improver of fireplaces ; but
in the scientific world his fame has been increasing in recent years,
and is destined to grow brighter with the further progress of physical
knowledge. As attention has latterly been drawn to what America
has done for science, it is desirable to give an account of the career
and labors of this eminent American investigator.

BENJAMIN THOMPSON was born March 26, 1753, in Woburn, Mas
sachusetts. He first saw the light in the west end of a substantial
farmhouse, which is still standing a few rods south of the meeting
house in North Woburn. The dwelling is said to be well preserved,
retaining its external and internal appearance unchanged, notwith
standing its great age, and it has been recently purchased by the
citizens of Woburn, to be preserved as an object of public and histori
cal interest. His father died in his infancy, and when the child was
three years old his widowed mother was married to Josiah Pierce, Jr.,
of Woburn. His latest biographer, Mr. George E. Ellis, says that
the lad " indicated from his early years an inconstancy and indiffer
ence to the homely routine tasks and the rural employments which
were required of him, while at the same time he exhibited an intense
mental activity, a spirit of ingenuity and inventiveness, and was
found seeking for amusement in things which afterward proved to
lead him to the profitable and beneficent occupations of his mature
life. He showed a particular ardor for arithmetic and mathematics,
and it was remembered of him afterward that his play-time and some
of his proper work-time had been given to ingenious mechanical con
trivances, soon leading to a curious interest in the principles of me
chanics and natural philosophy."

He received the rudiments of a common-school education, and his
guardians, finding that he was unfit for a farm-drudge, apprenticed
him at thirteen to a merchant in Salem. While thus engaged, with
such spare time and private assistance as he could get, he studied
algebra, trigonometry, astronomy, and even the higher mathematics,
so that before the age of fifteen he was able to calculate an eclipse.
At sixteen he was sent to Boston to continue the dry-goods business,
and there attended an evening French school. In 1771 he began the
study of medicine with Dr. John Hay, of Woburn, and at the same
time attended a few lectures at Cambridge. He taught school for a
short time at Bradford on the Merrimack, and afterward taught in an
academy in Concord, New Hampshire, higher up the same river, a
town which had been formerly known as Rumford.

"When Benjamin Thompson went to Concord as a teacher he was
in the glory of his youth, not having yet reached manhood. His friend
Baldwin describes him as of a fine manly make and figure, nearly six
feet in height, of handsome features, bright blue eyes, and dark au-

234 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

burn hair. He had the manners and polish of a gentleman, with fas
cinating ways, and an ability to make himself agreeable. So dili
gently, too, had he used his opportunities of culture and reading, that
he might well have shone even in a circle socially more exacting
than that to which he was now introduced. We may anticipate here
the conclusion to which the review of his whole career will lead us,
that, as boy or man, he was never one to allow an opportunity of
advancement to escape him." At Concord, when nineteen years of
age, Mr. Thompson married Sarah Walker Rolfe, a wealthy widow,
aged thirty-three, and by whom he had a daughter.

The Revolution was now fermenting, and alienations and discords
were springing up among the people. Young Thompson had made
the acquaintance of Governor Wentworth of New Hampshire, who,
discerning his genius and promise, gave him the military commission
of major. This aroused a bitter feeling of jealousy not only in the
subordinate officers over whom he had been sprung, but also with his
superiors, who were all turned into effective enemies. His independent
manners, his intimacy with the royal governor, and, perhaps, incon
siderate words in a time of excitement, led to the suspicion and the
charge that Thompson was unpatriotic and sided with the royalists.
By the potency of gossip and tale-bearing he was brought under sus
picion of Toryism, and threatened with that dignified discipline of
outraged patriotism, tar and feathers and riding on a rail. Thompson
indignantly denied the accusation. He called for proof, and a meet
ing of his townsmen was called to consider his case. But no evidence
of any kind was produced against him. Nevertheless the adverse
feeling in Concord was so strong that he found it necessary to
leave. There can be little doubt of the brutal injustice with which
Thompson was treated. His biographer writes with evident impar
tiality, and presents the case in all its aspects, and, admitting that
nothing bearing the character of evidence was to be found against
his patriotism, hes ays that "Major Thompson insisted from the first,
and steadfastly to the close of his life affirmed, that he was friendly
to the patriot cause, and had never done or said anything which could
be truthfully alleged as hostile to it." The simple fact seems to be
that while young Thompson entertained, and probably expressed, his
doubts about the issue of a conflict with the mother-country, as many
other independent-minded men must have done, he was nevertheless
in sympathy with the patriot cause, and was not only willing to devote
himself to it, but earnestly sought the opportunity by petitioning the
Provincial Congress for a position in the army. But he was defeated
through the machinations of the officers who resented his appoint
ment by Wentworth. His biographer says: " He lingered about the
camp. He devoted himself zealously to the study of military tactics.
He continued his experiments on gunpowder. He strolled between
Woburn, Medford, Cambridge, and Charlestown, learning whatever

SKETCH OF BENJAMIN THOMPSON. 235

his inquisitive mind could appropriate. But there was one set of men
whom he never could conciliate, who mistrusted his purposes, and
cast upon him lowering looks as they met him about the camp.
These were the general and field officers from New Hampshire, who
looked upon him as a dandy and an upstart at least, if not also at
heart a traitor. They would not associate with him, still less confide
in him." It is further stated on authority, that there is no reason
for doubting that "after the battle at Charleston, Thompson
was favorably introduced by some officers of Cambridge to General
Washington, who had just assumed the command; and that, had it
not been for the opposition of some of the New Hampshire officers, he
would have had the place in the American artillery corps which was
given to Colonel Gridley." The genius of Thompson was thus lost
to the American cause through the rivalries and hatreds of army
officers, a source of evil which profoundly troubled the life of Wash
ington during the lie volution, as it did also that of Lincoln during the
civil war.

Nothing was therefore left to Thompson but to remain in obscurity
at home under a cloud of suspicion that would have darkened his life,
or to seek a field of action elsewhere. He was a man of high spirit
and great force of character, and of course would not submit like a
poltroon to the degrading alternative. He accordingly took service
under the government of his early allegiance. He went to England,
and soon after his arrival, at the age of twenty-three, was given an
appointment in the colonial office, under Lord George Germaine. He
directed immediate attention to military matters ; improved the ac
coutrements of the Horse-Guards ; continued and extended his experi
ments on gunpowder, and improved the construction of firearms. He
experimented with great guns, made a study of the principles of naval
artillery, and devised a code of marine signals. He also made investi
gations into the cohesion of bodies, which he communicated to Sir
Joseph Banks, President of the Royal Society, and was elected Fellow
of that body in 1779 at the age of twenty-six. He very soon became
one of the most active and honored members of the Royal Society,
always attending its meetings when he was in London. He after
ward received a colonelcy from the British Government, and came
back to this country in command of a regiment on Long Island, build
ing a fort at Huntington. He returned to England in 1783, and the
same year made a tour on the Continent. At Strasburg he acciden
tally met with Prince Maximilian of Deux Ponts, then field-marshal in
the service of France, who became so interested in Colonel Thompson
that he gave him an introduction to his uncle the Elector of Bavaria
at Munich. The Elector was a man of liberal views, and discerning in
Thompson the talent that he thought might be made available in pro
moting the interests of his government and people, he made overtures
to him to enter his service in a joint military and civil capacity. The

236 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

proposition was favorably received, but, as Colonel Thompson was a
half-pay officer of the English crown, he needed to have the permission
of the king before making a Continental engagement. He therefore
returned to England in 1784, and received not only the king s per
mission, but also the honor of knighthood and the continuance of his
half-pay, and he returned to Munich the same year as Sir Benjamin
Thompson. A splendid field was now before him, and he entered
upon a series of the most remarkable labors, to which he devoted him
self with great assiduity. "These labors ranged from subjects of the
homeliest nature in their bearings upon the thrift, economy, and com
fort of life for the poorest classes, through enterprises of wide-extended
and radical reform, and comprehensive benevolence, up to the severest
tests and experiments -in the interests of practical science." . . . . " The
elector was from first to last his constant friend, never thwarting him,
never holding back his aid ; but, on the contrary, ready always to
advance every plan of his, and to espouse his views when questioned
or opposed by other counselors."

It is impossible, in this brief sketch, even to enumerate the ex
tensive and important measures of public beneficence and social
amelioration which Sir Benjamin projected and successfully carried
out. He reorganized the entire military establishment of Bavaria,
introduced not only a simpler code of tactics and a new system
of order, discipline, and economy, among the troops and industrial
schools for the soldiers children, but greatly improved the construc
tion and modes of manufacture of arms and ordnance. He devoted
himself to various ameliorations, such as improving the construction
and arrangement of the dwellings of the working-classes, providing
for them a better education, organizing houses of industry, introducing
superior breeds of horses and cattle, and promoting landscape-garden
ing, which he did by converting an old abandoned hunting-ground,
near Munich, into a park, where, after his departure, the inhabitants
erected a monument to his honor. He moreover suppressed the sys
tem of beggary, which had grown into a recognized profession in Bava
ria and become an enormous public evil one of the most remarkable
social reforms on record. Mendicity in Bavaria was at that time
"a stupendous and organized system of abuses, which, gradually
growing upon the tolerance of the government and people, had
reached such proportions and had established itself with such a vigor
ous power of mischief as to be acquiesced in as irremediable. Beggars
and vagabonds, the larger part of whom were also thieves, swarmed
all over the country, especially in the cities. These were not only
natives, but foreigners. They were of both sexes and all ages ; they
strolled in all directions, lining the highways, levying contributions
with clamorous demands, entering houses, stores, and workshops, to
rob, interrupting the devotions of the churches with their exactions,
and extorting everywhere, through fear, what they failed to get by

SKETCH OF BENJAMIN THOMPSON. 237

importunity. These swarms of mendicants and freebooters were in.
the main composed of strong, healthy, and able-bodied persons, who
preferred an easy life of indolence to any kind of industry. They had
become the terror and sco.urge of the country. They would steal,
maim, and expose little children, and compel them to extort, by their
piteous appeals, a fixed sum for a day s gatherings, with the threat of
an inhuman punishment if they failed. Every attempt to suppress
this system of outrages having been thwarted, the community had
learned to submit and conform to it as admitting of no relief; and
this wretched tolerance seemed to double the number of these vaga
bonds, while it raised beggary into a profession." So systematic and
rooted had this state of things become that " the beggars formed a
caste in the cities, with professional rules, assigning to them beats
and districts, which were disposed of by regulations, in case of the
death, promotion, or removal, of the proprietors.

Sir Benjamin resolved upon the extirpation of this system, and the
conversion of this lazy and dissolute class into thrifty, self-sustaining
laborers. His policy was cautious, deliberate, and wise. He knew
exactly what he wished to do, made ample provision for it, and secured
the cooperation of the influential classes in the execution of his plan.
We cannot describe it here, but its success was complete. The beg
gars were swept from the streets, cared for, soon set to work, and
raised to a condition of self-respecting industry. So effectual was the
work that Sir Benjamin won the heart-felt gratitude of the very class
upon which he had operated. This is beautifully illustrated by the
fact that, " on one occasion, when he was dangerously ill, the poor of
Munich went publicly in a body to the cathedral and put up public
prayers for his recovery. And again, when, four years afterward,
they learned that he was in a similar condition at Naples, they of
their own accord set apart an hour each evening, after they had
finished their work in the military workhouse, to pray for him."

For the valuable services rendered in Bavaria Sir Benjamin received
many distinctions, and, among others, was made Count of the Holy
Roman Empire. On receiving this dignity he chose a title in remem
brance of the country of his nativity, and was henceforth known as
Count of Rumford. His health failing from excessive labor, and
what he considered the unfavorable climate, he came back to England
in 1798, and had serious thoughts of returning to the United States,
having received from the American Government the compliment of a
formal invitation to revisit his native land. While in England, Count
Rumford organized the Royal Institution of Great Britain in 1800,
which was designed for the promotion of original discovery and the
diffusion of a taste for science among the educated classes. Its suc
cess has more than vindicated the sagacity of its founder. He after
ward returned to the Continent, and, while frequently visiting Munich,
took up his residence in Paris. In 1805 he married the widow of the

2 3 8 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

celebrated French chemist Lavoisier, who was beheaded in the French
Revolution. The union, however, not proving a happy one, they soon
separated, and Rumford died in his residence at Auteuil the 21st of
August, 1814. His first wife had died in 1792, and his daughter, who
inherited his title, had come to him at Munich, and returned to Amer
ica after her father s decease.

The philanthropic interest of Count Rumford in the poor and de
fective domestic life of the lower classes of society had a great influ
ence in determining the course of his scientific inquiries. It was this
feeling that led him to investigate the properties and domestic man
agement of heat. He determined the amount of it arising from the
combustion of different kinds of fuel, by means of a calorimeter of his
own invention. He reconstructed the fireplace, and so improved the
methods of warming apartments and cooking food as to produce a
saving of from one-half to seven-eighths of the fuel previously con
sumed. He improved the construction of stoves, cooking-ranges, coal-
grates, and chimneys, and showed that the non-conducting power of
cloth is due to the air inclosed among its fibres ; and he first pointed
out that mode of action of heat called convection ; indeed, he was the
first clearly to discriminate between the three modes of propagation
of heat radiation, conduction, aad convection. He determined the
almost non-conducting properties of liquids, investigated the sources
of the production of light, and invented a mode of measuring it. He
was the first to apply steam generally to the warming of fluids and to
culinary operations. He also, as has been stated, experimented ex
tensively upon the use of gunpowder, the strength of materials, and
the maximum density of water, and made many valuable and original
observations upon an extensive range of subjects, which are described
in the essays recently for the first time published in a complete. form.
As Prof. J. D. Forbes remarks, " all Rumford s experiments were made
with admirable precision, and recorded with elaborate fidelity and in
the plainest language. Everything with him was reduced to weight
and measure, and no pains were spared to obtain the best results."

But it was his investigations concerning the nature of heat that
will make him immortal. By experiments in boring cannon he proved
its immateriality, and that it does not consist of an imponderable sub
stance or fluid, as implied by the old theory of caloric. In these ex
periments he demonstrated that the heat generated by friction does
not come from any latent source in the materials used, but is derived
from the power spent in producing the friction ; that its amount is in
the ratio of the power expended; that it is a case of the transforma
tion of energy, and a mode of molecular motion. He was half a cen
tury in advance of his age, and his researches were long unappre
ciated ; but they are now recognized as forming an epoch in the
progress of physical science.

CORRESP ONDENCE.

2 39

CORRESPONDENCE.

"WHAT CONSTITUTES RELIGION?"

To the Editor of the Popular Science Monthly.

DEAR SIR : The use of my name
twice in your notice of Mr. Fiske s
new work on " The Unseen World," in
your May number, perhaps justifies me in
soliciting a small space for comment on
some expressions in that notice.

You are defending Dr. Draper from Mr.
Fiske s trenchant attacks. To that there
can be no objection. Confederates are jus
tified in standing by one another ; but I do
not think that you are justified in saying
that " the point of contention is as to what
constitutes religion." So far from there
being contention on that point,, there is
really no important difference. All " sects,"
no matter how much they " eat each other
up in their denial of dogmas," as you af
firm, agree as to what religion is. It does
not seem edifying to behold in you the tem
per which dictates the first of the following
sentences, although the exceeding generos
ity of the careful proposal in the second
has a redeeming flavor. " We hope that
the agreement of Messrs. Brownson, Hill,
Washburn, Deems, Fiske & Co., in de
nouncing the groundlessness of the con
flict, will not be construed as implying
any agreement among the parties as to what
religion is. If these gentlemen will get to
gether and settle the point, an important
step will be gained, and THE POPULAR SCI
ENCE MONTHLY will gladly pay the expenses
of a convention of reasonable length for
such a purpose ; but we stipulate not to
foot the bills until they reach an agree
ment."

For the other gentlemen I cannot an
swer, but I simply say that I never did
"denounce the groundlessness of the con
flict," but have announced it and endeav
ored to demonstrate it, and you are witness
that I am "vehement in asserting the
groundlessness and absurdity of Dr. Dra
per s assumption" of the conflict (page
113).

Why are you so anxious to keep your
readers from believing that the gentlemen
whose names you have recited in fact do
not and really cannot agree as to what is
" religion ? " Have you ever seen anything
in our writings or heard anything in our
oral teachings to justify the supposition
that we do not agree ? As you challenge
us, I accept the challenge for my part. I
will not expose you to the cost of a con
vention, but here, in my study, without
consultation with any of the other gentle

men you name, I venture to give two defi
nitions of religion, in both of which I vent
ure to predict that all those gentlemen, if
they see this letter, will heartily agree, and
that these definitions will win the assent
also of Archbishop McCloskey, Bishop Pot
ter, Bishop Foster, Bishop Wightman, Chan
cellor Crosby, Rev. Dr. Armitage, and Rev.
Dr. Storrs, representatives of the leading
" sects."

To give the least first, here is my own
definition: Religion is loving obedience to
God s will. No matter how or where that
will is discovered, nor what it is, he is a
religious man who does what he believes
will please God, because he loves God.

The second is authoritative. It is that
of St. James (i. 27) : " True religion and
undefiled before God and the Father is
this : To visit the fatherless and widows
in their affliction, and to keep himself un
spotted from the world." A life of inward
purity and outward beneficence is a reli
gious life.

I venture to think you may pass these
around the whole circle of religionists and
find unanimity. But do not we religionists
disagree ? Certainly. The five gentlemen
you have mentioned, and the seven whom I
have named, differ more or less, oftener
more than less, and on some points appar
ently irreconcilably. But mark : we never
differ in our religion ; it is in our science.
The moment two men become scientific,
whether they are religious or not, they begin
to " eat each other up in their denial of dog
mas." So long as we keep to religion, we
are one. Our hearts are together. It is
only with our heads that we butt one an
other. I have worshiped God in company
with each of the seven distinguished cler
gymen whom I have ventured to name, and
yet there is not one of them who does not
hold some dogma of doctrine or ecclesiasti-
cism to which I cannot subscribe. As re
ligionists, we agree. As scientists, we dif
fer. It is on the ground of our theology
that we differ, and that is purely a scien
tific ground. Be pleased always to remem
ber that theology is only a science like
geology or biology.

But, my dear sir, we theologians would
be out of fashion if we did not " eat each
other up in our denial of dogmas." All
other scientists do. The dogma of hctero-
genesis tries to " eat up " the dogma of
homogenesis, while the dogma of pangene-
sis is fairly bursting itself to swallow both
the others bodily ; and there is no small
conflict between spontaneity and heredity,

2 4

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and meanwhile biosis is striving vigorously
to hold its ground against archebiosis.

Behold ! are not Religion and Life the
two greatest subjects ? You are quite anx
ious that your readers shall fancy that reli
gionists cannot agree in their definitions of
religion. But you do not show them that
even on the subject of Life the scientists
are greatly at difference. Prof. Owen says
that " Life is a sound ; " Schelling says it is
a "tendency." Herbert Spencer calls it
"a continuous adjustment." Dr. Meissner
says it is " but motion." Dr. Bastian holds
that he has produced plants and animals
from inorganic matter. Schultz positively
believes it never was done and cannot be
done : and Prof. Huxley holds that " con
structive chemistry could do nothing with
out the influence of preexisting living pro
toplasm."

I do not wish to crowd your pages, and
so content myself with these few instances
out of the multitudes of conflicting and
perplexing differences among " advanced
thinkers."

Even you, my dear sir, have not utterly
escaped. You once wrote, " If the forces
are correlated in organic growth and nutri
tion, they must be in organic action." Man
ifestly, after that sentence was written,
you meditated, and, meditating, you dis
covered that the sequitur was not quite as
apparent as it ought to be. You did not
strike out the sentence, but you apologized
for it handsomely by saying, " From the
great complexity of the conditions, the
same exactness will not be expected here as
in the inorganic field." But you see, my
dear sir, that theology is a science which
has for its field those subjects in which
there is the greatest complexity of condi
tions, and you must not demand of your
brother scientists as much exactness in the
statements of a metaphysical proposition as
you may in the statement of the length of a
fish s tooth.

But as to your statement that the forces
must be correlated in organic action, are you
not in danger of being " eaten up " by the
statements of your friends, Bastian, Barker,
and, what is still harder on you, Herbert
Spencer ? Prof. Barker teaches that the
correlation of the natural forces with
thought " has never yet been measured."
Then, it is a mere " guess." Dr. Bastian
says that it " cannot be proved " that sen
sation and thought are truly the direct re
sults of molecular activity. Then it is a
mere "guess." Mr. Herbert Spencer,
whose name is conclusive authority with
you, and who, I am most frank to ad
mit, knows as much about the "unknow
able " as any writer whose works I have
read, says that the outer force and the in
ward feeling it excites " do not even main
tain an unvarying proportion." Then it is
a mere "guess." And, my dear sir, I do

most heartily agree with your statement,
" not he who Besses is to be esteemed the
true discoverer, but he who demonstrates a
new truth."

Now, if Messrs. Spencer, Barker, Tyn-
dall, Huxley, Biichner, Draper, Youmans,
"& Co.," will "get together and settle"
what Life is, or Thought, " an important
step will be gained ;" and, not to be out
done by your generosity, I will engage to
" pay the expenses of a convention of rea
sonable length for such a purpose," but I
" stipulate not to foot the bills until you
reach an agreement."

Trusting that both you and I, as we
grow older, may have more science and
more religion, and room enough in our heads
and hearts for both without " conflict,"
I am, very faithfully, your co-laborer,
CHARLES F. DEEMS.

Of course Dr. Deems meant to announce,
assert, and declare, the groundlessness of
the conflict between Religion and Science ;
and we think the readers of our article which
he criticises were not in the slightest danger
of misapprehending his position, notwith
standing the slip of writing in which he is
said to have denounced it.

Dr. Deems asks : " Why are you so
anxious to keep your readers from believing
that the gentlemen whose names you have
recited in fact do not, and really cannot,
agree as to what is religion ? " Has not
the doctor here slipped also, in inadvertent
haste, and does he not really mean, Why
are you so anxious to make your readers be
lieve, etc. ? and to this we reply, that the
anxiety in regard to a definition of religion
has not originated with us. It is the re
viewers of Dr. Draper who have called for
a definition of religion from him, and con
demn his book as dealing with a " conflict "
existing only in his own imagination, be
cause he has not defined what religion is.
Had he undertaken this, they tell us, it
would have at once appeared that there is
and can be really no such conflict. We
said that "the point of contention is as to
what constitutes religion," because the the
ological reviewers of Draper charge that
what he treats as religion, and as conflict
ing with science, is not religion. We
have not denied that religion can be so de
fined as to avoid all antagonism with sci
ence ; and there is hope that the time may
come when such a definition will be ac
cepted and the antagonism will disappear.
We only maintain that in the historic past,

EDITORS TABLE.

241

with which Dr. Draper deals, such an inter
pretation of religion had not been reached,
and that it is very far from being arrived at
at the present time. Dr. Draper has been
reproached for not defining religion; had
he done so, and had his definition described
that which has passed under the name of
religion, and been held as religion, genera
tion after generation, his definition would
have been at once repudiated by the theo
logical party. We said that those who
agree in demanding a definition of religion
from Dr. Draper, and condemn his book as
treating of an illusive conflict because he
does not furnish it, cannot themselves agree
upon the definition they profess to so much
desire. Does Dr. Deems accept Mr. Fiske s
definition? And if there is one definition,
clear and complete, which all men can
adopt, why does he bring us two, and
which are we to accept ? They are cer
tainly not identical, lor one makes it con
sist in a special relation of man to God,
and the other in charity and moral purity.
Dr. Deems defines religion as " loving obe
dience to God s will ; " but if the obedience
is inspired by Calvinistic fear, is it religion
or not? Loving obedience to God s will
but how ascertained ? Dr. Deems may say,
with broad liberality, either by the study of
God s printed word, or by the study of his
living works ; but can he insure us an agree
ment among all parties upon this basis ?
From the doctor s position, that religious
people disagree among each other on ac
count of their science, we respectfully dis
sent. Science is not an agency of discord,
but of concord. There are undoubtedly
disagreements in science, for its nature is
progressive, and diversities of view are in

evitably incident to its imperfect stages.
Yet the great law of scientific thought is
that, with the progress of investigation,
there is ever a tendency to wider agreement,
until its truths at length become established
and universally accepted. Throughout civil
ization it is in science, and, we might almost
say, in science alone, that men are brought
into essential agreement. Through the pow
er it has conferred over the elements of Na
ture have come the marvels of modern in
ternational communication and intercourse ;
and through the truths it has established in
the domain of experience has come a body
of common belief, which men of all lan
guages, religions, and nationalities, can ac
cept, so that we must regard science as in
fact the predominant unifying agency of the
world. The reason is, that it deals with the
order of Nature, which is constant and ever
open to observation and research. New
questions are, of course, constantly arising
in science, upon which there are at first
wide contrasts of opinion, but the history of
science abundantly shows, either that such
questions a re gradually cleared up, or, if this
is found to be impossible if the truth can
not be determined about them then there
comes agreement in this, and they are
finally put aside as insoluble, and therefore
questions with which science has no legiti
mate concern. Conflicting views now pre
vail on the problems of the origin of life
and the nature of life, and time alone can
determine what will be the issue of these
inquiries ; but we submit that these diver
sities of opinion are of a quite different
kind from those between 1&e Unitarian and
the Trinitarian the Universalist and the
Perditionist.

EDITOR S TABLE.

WHO SHALL STUDY THE BABIES?

THE reader s attention will be ar
rested by the novelty of our first
article, by a distinguished literary
Frenchman, giving the result of his
observations on the progress of an in
fant in learning to talk. We confess
to some mortification at seeing the
name of a man at the head of such a
VOL. ix. 16

discussion. Xot that the dignity of
M. Taine is at all compromised, for he
never undertook a more important or a
more distinguished task than critically
noting the steps of mental evolution in
a baby. Nevertheless, this would seem
to be preeminently the proper work of
woman a work to which we might
infer she would be drawn by her feel-

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ings, in which she would be interested
by her curiosity, and would take up
from the temptation of her special op
portunities. Yet M. Taine found that
it had not been done. He wished to
test Max Muller s views in regard to
the genesis of language, and wanted a
series of observations of infantine men
tal growth for the purpose. But they
had not been made, the facts were
wanting, and nothing remained but to
make the study himself. We say this
kind of work belongs to woman, and
she is perfectly competent to peform it.
Why, then, has it not been undertaken,
and why has there not grown up a body
of carefully-observed and widely-veri
fied facts regarding psychological de
velopment in infancy such as would be
valuable for arriving at inductive truths
for guidance in the rational education
of childhood? Undoubtedly, psychol
ogy is a backward science, imperfect
from the obscurity and complexity of
its questions, and its long cultivation by
unscientific methods. But the value
of observations upon the mental un
folding of infancy is not, by any means,
dependent upon the possibility of im
mediately explaining them. Such ob
servations, if accurately made and in
telligently recorded, will have a value
of their own independent of the state
of psychological science, while they
would become^ permanent and potent
means of its advancement. In most
other fields of natural phenomena the
facts are far in advance of the theories
by which they are organized into sci
ence ; in the field of mental growth,
however, observations are scanty and
speculation superabundant.

We are, of course, not to expect
that things will come before they are
wanted, and, if such observations are
not called for, why should they be sup
plied ? But the facts have been long
and loudly called for, if not by psy
chologists, then by practical educators,
while woman has had exclusive charge
of the education that begins in infancy.

She is an educator as a mother, and
the culture of childhood has almost
universally fallen into her hands as a
teacher. We might surely have ex
pected that, with their great excess of
opportunity, some few women of abil
ity would have gone carefully and criti
cally and often over the ground which
M. Taine has passed over once with
such interesting results. But the work
that might have been expected, so far
as we are aware, has not been done,
nor is there any promise of it. The
difficulty is, that there has been noth
ing in woman s education either to in
terest her in the subject or to qualify
her for dealing with it. Observations,
to be valuable for scientific purposes,
involve an accuracy of perception and
an intellectual discrimination which are
not to be had except by patient and
methodical training of the observing
powers. This is the one thing that has
not been included in female education.
Neither languages, nor mathematics,
nor history, nor mental philosophy, nor
music, nor general literature, aifords any
exercise whatever of the observing fac
ulties. A student may become pro
ficient in all these branches, while the
intellectual interest in the phenomena
of daily experience, and the objects of
common life, remains as dormant as it
is in the savages. Nay, more, absorp
tion in these modes of mental activ
ity, which involve chiefly the memory
and reflective powers, is fatally un
favorable to observation, as it brings
the mind under the control of mental
habits that exclude it. No woman can
make valuable observations on mental
progress in infancy that has not had a
culture fitted for it, first, by a long prac
tice, such as she gives to music, in in
dependent observation in some branch
of objective science, as botany, for ex
ample ; and, secondly, by a thorough
knowledge of the constitution of the
child, especially the functions of its
nervous mechanism. With their heads
filled with history, aesthetics, algebra,

EDITOR S TABLE.

2 43

French, and German, they will never
attain to these qualifications for study
ing the character of children. The
seminaries do not prepare them for it ;
the high-schools and the normal schools
do not confer it. Nor is "this all, nor
the worst. There is no appreciation of
it or aspiration for it. The so-called
woman s movement, which professes to
aim at her higher improvement and the
enlargement of her activities, is not in
this direction. It looks to public, profes
sional, and political life, as woman s fu
ture and better sphere of action. In the
new colleges for women that are spring
ing up in all directions with munificent
endowments, the supreme consideration
seems to be to ignore sex, and frame the
feminine curriculum of study on the old
masculine models, and keep it up to the
masculine standards. The spirit of these
schools is that of a slavish imitation.
They are organized with no reference
to the urgent and living needs of society,
but they go in for the traditional trum
peries of the old colleges ; and, instead
of studying science in its personal, do
mestic, and social bearings, the women
demand Latin and Greek, and as much
of it as the masculine intellect has proved
capable of surviving. Children are imi
tators. Savages are imitators. What
else are the women in their demands
for new and ampler opportunities of
culture ? They will study classics, and
let the men study the babies ; but, if
they are incompetent, of course the men
must do it. For this business of study
ing the science of infancy must be pur
sued by somebody, thoroughly and ex
haustively. It is nothing less than a
transcendent problem of Tmman charac
ter lying at the foundation of the social
state ; for only as the human being is
understood in its deeper organic laws,
prenatal and infantine, as well as in ita
subsequent unfolding, can we arrive at
settled and scientific views regarding
the rights, claims, duties, and true in-.:
terests of the individual in society. If
not a new research, it is at least a new
impulse and stage of research, and We

say again that we should think intelli
gent and ambitious women would be
glad to have a share in it, and would
have wisdom enough to include it in
their extended schemes of female edu
cation.

ENGLISH PHILOSOPHY IN GERXA2TY.

WE not long ago called attention to
a newspaper article under the title of
"German Darwinism," which made a
point against Herbert Spencer as not be
ing recognized in Germany. We point
ed out various reasons in the national
habits of thought, why Spencer s doc
trines, which are put forth under the
form of a philosophical system, would
be likely not to attract the attention
of German thinkers so early as those
of other Continental countries. Our
view has since been strikingly confirmed
by an eminent German authority, Prof.
Wundt, of the University of Leipsic, a
physiologist and psychologist of world
wide reputation. In a review of the
German translation of "First Princi
ples," published in the Jena Literary
Gazette, Prof. Wundt gives an excellent
account of the book, from which the fol
lowing statements are condensed:

" Of living English philosophers Herbert
Spencer undoubtedly stands in the foremost
rank, yet his works have hitherto been little
known in Germany. It would, however,
appear that this neglect is soon to be re
trieved, for, simultaneously with the ap
pearance of the work under review, two oth
er volumes by the same author are issued.
By giving an excellent translation of First
Principles (under the title of The Bases of
Philosophy ), Dr. Vetter has rendered good
service to his countrymen, and it is to be
hoped that he will further aid in making
this distinguished author known in Ger
many by translating the subsequent volumes
of his system."

"In the whole tenor of his views Mr.
Spencer differs widely from the speculative
philosophers of Germany. The indomita
ble persistency with which for twenty-five
years he has worked on the various branches
mfi science, bringing them into one system,
has no parallel in Germany, save, perhaps,
in Hegel s Encyclopaedia. "

"Among the dominant ideas in this sys-

244

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tern the doctrine of evolution is preeminent.
In Spencer s mind evolution is not merely a
principle in biology, but extends on the one
hand to inorganic Nature, and on the other
hand to the domain of psychology and so
ciology. And here we take occasion to re
mind the reader that, independently of the
stimulus given to scientific thought by Dar
win, Mr. Spencer early recognized the im
portance of the law of evolution, to which
from the first he gave very wide scope, and
which he has illustrated with a multitude
of original ideas."

u A detailed criticism of the First Prin
ciples would necessarily require a book for
itself, more especially because the German
reader, from the very nature of his philo
sophical training, will enter on the study of
the most general laws of being, the demon
stration of which is the aim of the present
work, with prepossessions different from
those of the English author. Perhaps in
the philosophical literature of recent times
there is no English work which bears the
national stamp so visibly as does Spencer s.
From this point of view alone, to say nothing
of the many pregnant thoughts it contain?,
it well deserves the attention of German
readers. John Stuart Mill, in the philosoph
ical direction of his mind, came too much
under the influence of the French, particu
larly of Comte. Spencer s mind is, no
doubt, more original than Mill s, and more
free from foreign influences, though inferior
in the splendor of external form. In all the
philosophical speculations of Spencer we
plainly see that practical sense which makes
its way through the most difficult problems
by the shortest route."

" Finally, though the German reader will
find in these Bases of Philosophy much
that he will object to, and though on the
capital points of the system he will dissent
from the author oftener than he agrees with
him, nevertheless he will not lay the book
aside without having received many a valu
able suggestion. Indeed, it may be truly
said of works on philosophy, that we learn
more from those which arouse our opposi
tion than from those which merely echo our
own opinions.."

THE RUMFORD MEDALS.

THE Rumford gold medal of the
American Academy of Arts and Sci
ences, founded to commemorate impor
tant contributions toward our kno wl-
edge of heat and light, has just been

granted to Dr. John William Draper,
of New York. This is a distinguished
tribute to the scientific labors of our
eminent physicist and chemist, and the
Academy has honored itself in the
award. Tet, those who know how
early and eminent were Dr. Draper s
original contributions to the chemistry
of light, will he tempted to ask why
this distinction was not accorded by
the Academy to Dr. Draper a genera
tion ago. As reminiscences of Count
Rumford are being revived just now,
it will be interesting to glance at the
history of his medals, which have at
tained such celebrity in tho scientific
world.

Deeply impressed with the impor
tance of extending the knowledge of
heat and light, to which he had de
voted himself with great assiduity and
success, Count Kumford, in 1796, pre
sented to the Royal Society 1,000,
the interest of which was to be spent
in striking two medals both in the
same die, one of gold and one of silver,
worth the interest of the donation for
two years, and to be given biennially
for th e most important discovery or
improvement relating to heat and light
that should have been made* during the
preceding two years in any part of Eu
rope. The trust was accepted and the
medals designed. The first award was
to Rumford himself in 1802. In 1804
John Leslie received the Rumford med
als. The honor then passed, in 1806;
to Murdock ; in 1810 to Malus ; in 1814
to Dr. Wells; in 1816 to Hnmphry
Davy ; in 1818 to David Brewster ; in
1824 to Fresnel ; in 1834 to Melloni ;
in 1838 to J. D. Forbes; in 1840 to
Biot ; in 1842 to Fox-Talbot ; in 1846
to Faraday ; in 1848 to Regnault ; in
1850 to Arago ; in 1852 to Stokes ; in
1854 to Arnott; in 1856 to Pasteur;
in 1858 to Jamin ; in 1860 to Clerk-
Maxwell; in 1862 to Kirchhoff; in
1864 to Tyndall; in 1866 to Fizeau ; in
1868 to Balfour Stewart. .

At the same time Count Rumford
made a corresponding donation to the

LITERARY NOTICES.

--

American Academy of Arts -and Sci
ences, instituted in 1780. Five thou
sand dollars were presented, the accru
ing interest of which was to be invest
ed in medals, and granted biennially by
the academy for the most important
discoveries in relation to heat or light
made within the preceding two years.
It was also provided that, if this term
passed without any discovery or im
provement being made that should be
deemed worthy of the award, the ac
cruing interest was to be added to the
principal, and the augmented income
thus arising was to be added to the
medals when the next award was made.
But the arrangement seemed to be a
futile one, as there were none in |
America who troubled themselves to
extend the knowledge of heat and !
light ; or, at all events, there were no .
such extensions as in the opinion of the [
Academy were entitled to win the
prizes. Years passed, and the money ;
accumulated until the Academy became
embarrassed by the question what to
do with it. And so they got a law ;
passed by the Legislature empowering
them to depart from the strict letter of
the endowment, and use the funds with
more freedom in the interest of ad
vancing knowledge. In 1839 the A cad- |
emy gave from the interest of the Rum-
ford fund the sum of $600 to Dr. Hare,
of Philadelphia, in consideration of his I
invention of the compound blowpipe,
and his improvement in galvanic appa
ratus. The Rumford medal was grant
ed by the Academy, in 1862, to John B.
Ericssen for his caloric - engine ; in
1865 to Daniel Tread well, for improve
ments in the management of heat; in
1867 to Alvan Clark, for improvement
in the lens of the refracting telescope ;
and in 1870 to George H. Corliss, for
improvements in the steam-engine.
When the gift was "bade to Dr. Hare,
the fund amounted to $27,000 ; and it
has now grown to $42,000.

The biographer of Rumford makes
the following significant observation:
" It is remarkable that the count, after

having liberally provided funds for
medals in the award of two learned
bodies, should a few years afterward,
when drawing his plan and publishing
his proposals for his own Royal Institu
tion, have introduced into them an ex
press prohibition of all premiums and
rewards."

LITERARY NOTICES.

Ox FERMENTATION. By P. SCHUTZENBERGER.
With Twenty-eight Illustrations. Pp.
306. Price, $1.50. D. Appleton & Co.
No. XX. International Scientific Series.

IN the logic of science, the misleading
influence of words is a matter of ever-in
creasing importance. Words remain, but
the ideas they represent are altered, ex-|
panded, revolutionized. The old and nar
row meanings live on in common speech,
and the changed and enlarged significations
are current among men of science, so that
when the terms are employed between these
classes they have so totally different a sig
nification that intelligent and critical in
terchange of ideas between them is hardly
possible. The term applied to the pres
ent work is a case in point. The word 1
" fermentation " is derived from fervere,
to boil, and applies to the agitation or,
effervescence of saccharine liquids when
placed in contact with ferments a phe
nomenon that was probably familiarly
known long before the earliest traces of-
history. To the mass of people, the word
" fermentation " suggests bread-making and
brewing, with the production of spirituous
and souring products. To the man of science
and as treated in the present volume, fer
mentation has become one of the great
gateways to biology. The subject has ever
been, and must continue to be, of great
practical moment in its domestic and manu
facturing relations ; and every step in its
scientific elucidation is therefore a contri
bution to the theory and progress of the
arts. The knowledge of it has now become,
so clear and extended, that it was necessary,
it should be brought together in a special
treatise for reference for all who are in
terested in practical problems of organic
chemistry. But while the present book
fulfills this condition, it also aims at the

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

higher object of bringing the principles of
the subject into relation with philosophical
biology. The scientific significance of fer
mentation lies in the fact that it brings be
fore us the action and effects of the lowest
and most elemental forms of living organ
isms ; it deals with the behavior and influ
ence in numerous relations of elementary
organisms reduced to a single cell ; but these
cells are the units of all organic life, a plant
or an animal of a higher order being only
the union under special laws of different
kinds of cells, each of which acts in a cer
tain determinable manner. While the high
er organisms baffle analysis from the infinite
complexity and diversity of their minute or
histological elements, the key to their study
is offered in these lower structures, for " the
more simple an organism is, the fewer spe
cial kinds of cells it contains, the simpler
are the chemical reactions which take place
in it, and the more easily are they separated
from each other and isolated by experi
ment;" and from this point of view the
history of fermentation becomes nothing
less than that of the chemical phenomena
of life. The thorough study of ferments,
therefore, becomes an indispensable scien
tific prerequisite to the knowledge of the
higher organisms.

The investigation of the influence of
different ferment-cells in initiating differ
ent lines of chemical change brings us into
closer quarters with the relations of chemi
cal and so-called vital forces. As the dif
ferent radiant forces, thermal, luminous, and
chemical, produce their profoundly diverse
effects simply by variations of wave-length,
so the different kind of cells are supposed
to initiate different chemical changes by
differences in the vibratory rhythm which
starts them. In relation to this point our
author remarks :

"The transformation of sugar into alcohol
and carbon dioxide and the conversion of the
same body into lactic acid are chemical phe
nomena which we cannot yet reproduce by the
intervention of heat alone, nor by the additional
agency of light or of electricity. The force capa
ble of attacking, in a certain determinate direc
tion, the complex edifice which we call sugar, an
edifice composed of atoms of carbon, hydrogen,
and oxygen, grouped according to a determinate
law this force, which ie manifested only in the
living cell of the ferment, is a force as material
as all those which we are accustomed to utilize.
Its principal peculiarity is, that it is only found

in the living organisms, to which it gives their
peculiar character. We ought not to allow our
selves to be stopped by this rampart, over which
no one has hitherto been able to pass ; we ought
not to say to the chemist, You shall go no
farther, for beyond this is the domain of life,
where you have no control. The history of
science shows us the weakness of these so-called
impassable barriers. No one can any longer
admit that vital force has power over matter, to
change, counterbalance, or annul, the natural
play of chemical affinities. That which we have
agreed to call chemical affinity is not an absolute
force ; this affinity is modified in numberless
ways, according as the circumstances vary by
which bodies are surrounded. Thus, the appar
ent differences between the reactions of the lab
oratory and those of the organism ought to be
sought for, more particularly among the social
conditions, which the latter alone has been able
hitherto to bring together. In other words, there
is really no chemical vital force. If living cells
produce reactions which seem peculiar to them
selves, it is because they realize conditions of
molecular mechanism which we have not hith
erto succeeded in tracing, but which we shall,
without doubt, be able to discover at some future
time. Science can gain nothing by being limited
in the possibility of the aims which she proposes
to herself, or the end which she seeks."

MEMOIR OF SIR BENJAMIN THOMPSON (Count
Rumford), with Notices of his Daugh
ter. By GEORGE E. ELLIS. Published,
in connection with an edition of Rum-
ford s Complete Works, by the American
Academy of Arts and Sciences. Boston.
Pp. 680.

Rumford s Complete Works, vol. I., pp. 493.

Vol. II., pp. 570. Vol. III., pp. 504. Vol.

IV., pp. 842. Price of the set, including

the u Life," $25.00. Boston : Estes

Lauriat.

WE elsewhere publish a brief notice of
the life of Count Rumford so brief as
hardly to give a just idea of the interest
that attaches to the romantic and remark
able story of his career. But few biogra
phies are richer in varied incident, or fuller
of instruction, than this of Rumford ; and its
literary execution, by Mr. Ellis, is well
worthy of the subject. The four volumes
of his works comprise not only all the
Count s essays, formerly published in Eng
lish, but also valuable papers written by
him in French and German which have been
first translated for this edition. The col
lection has been supervised by the Rumford
Committee of the American Academy of
! Sciences, who have grouped together in the
several volumes, as far as was practicable,
i the papers on allied subjects : thus the sci-

LITERARY NOTICES.

247

entific papers will be found chiefly in the
first two volumes ; descriptions of improved
methods of warming and cooking occupy
the third ; and the greater part of the last
is devoted to philanthropic essays ; but this
also contains the scientific papers on light.
The volumes are splendidly illustrated and
elegantly printed. The American Academy
of Sciences could have given no worthier
tribute to the fame of this man than to fur
nish the world with so excellent an edition
of his writings.

LlFE-HlSTORIES OF THE BlRDS OF EASTERN

PENNSYLVANIA. By THOMAS GENTRY.
In Two Volumes. Vol. I. Pp. 400.
Philadelphia : The author.

THIS work is intended to present more
fully than has been done before the habits,
food, migrations, and other characteristics
of the birds of Eastern Pennsylvania.

Especial attention is given to the build
ing of nests ; showing wherein they vary,
and the causes for such variations.

The labor of nidification ; the periods
of incubation, and the part which the male
takes in it ; the age when the young quit
their nests ; the character of the sexes be
fore and after incubation ; and the food, as
insects, seeds, and berries, on which the
birds, old and young, depend, are carefully
considered by the patient and indefatigable
author.

Very much of value is thus added to
our knowledge of bird-life, and what is
specially important to our knowledge of the
instincts and mental constitution and emo
tions of birds.

We look for good results from the labors
of Mr. Gentry. The system of classifica
tion he adopts is the same as that of Dr.
Elliott Coues in his " Key to North Amer
ican Birds."

REPORT OF THE TRUSTEES OF THE HARVARD
MUSEUM OF COMPARATIVE ZOOLOGY.

GIVES an account of all changes and
additions in the various sections of the Mu
seum during 1875. From the report on
instruction in zoology, it appears that dur
ing the year 1874- 75 there were eighteen
students attending the lectures of Prof. Mc-
Crady. A detailed statement is made of
the condition of the Agassiz Memorial
Fund.

THE PHYSIOLOGY OF THE CIRCULATION IN
PLANTS, IN THE LOWER ANIMALS, AND IN
MAN. By J. BELL PETTIGREW, M. D.,
F. R. S. London and Xew York : Mac-
millan. Pp. 329. Price, $4.

IN this work we have what the Lancet
justly calls " the first serious attempt at a
great generalization on an avowedly diffi
cult subject." The author has undertaken
no less a task than to show that the circu
lation, as it takes place in plants, animals,
and man, is essentially the same in kind ;
differing mainly in the degree of complexity
attained by the organs which carry it on,
and of the resulting movements of the cir
culating fluids.

The book opens with a brief history of
the growth of the subject, from the fanciful
notions held centuries ago by the Chinese
that " the circulation of the vital heat and
radical humors commenced at three o clock
in the morning, reached the lungs in the
course of the day, and terminated in the
liver at the end of twenty-four hours," up
to the exact scientific demonstrations of
Harvey and Malpighi. " The term circula
tion, in the present day," says the author,
" is employed in a double sense. In its
wider signification it embraces the course of
the nutritious juices through plants and the
lower order of animals; in its more limited
signification, and as applied to man and the
higher orders of animated beings, it indi
cates the course of the blood from the heart
to the capillaries, and from these back
again to the heart. The word circulation
literally means & flowing round, a going and
returning ; and it is well to bear the original
meaning in mind, as we shall find that a
single circle aptly represents the circulation
in most of the lower animals, a circle with
one or more accessory loops, representing
the circulation in the higher oues."

The circulation in plants is first de
scribed, the ascent, descent, and lateral dis
tribution of the sap, and the forces which
maintain the flow, being each fully treated.
Many curious resemblances between the cir
culation in plants and that in animals are
pointed out in this section of the work. On
this point the author says : " I now proceed
to a consideration of the circulation as it
exists in animals ; and an attentive exami
nation of the subject not only induces me
to believe that there is a striking analogy

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

between the circulation in animals and
plants, but that in animals devoid of pulsa
tile vessels and hearts it is in some senses
identical, and traceable to the operation of
the same forces."

The subject of the circulation in animals
occupies the bulk of the book, that of the
invertebrates, as being in some sense in
termediate between plants and the higher
animals, being treated first. In a number
of the lowest of these no trace of a circu
lation has yet been detected, the nutritious
fluids in such cases being supposed to pass
from the alimentary canal by interstitial
transudation throughout the entire body, as
the sap passes into the substance of cellular
plants. A step in advance is observed
where, as in the polypi, medusee, etc., the
alimentary canal is of large size and rami
fies in every part of the body, serving at
the same time as a circulatory and aliment
ary apparatus. The next advance is the
appearance of distinct vessels, minus con
tractile power, as in plants. Vessels pos
sessing contractile power, but without any
distinct contractile organ, are next found ;
and afterward the heart appears, increasing
in complexity of structure along with the
related organs, until its highest develop
ment is reached in the mammalia.

On the subject of the forces which give
rise to the circulation in the higher animals,
the author, while admitting that a large
share of the work is done by the heart,
argues at length in favor of the view that
this organ alone is not equal to the task ;
and that other agencies, such as osmosis,
capillary attraction, absorption, chemical
affinity, etc., aid materially in the process.

To the physiological student the book
is exceedingly interesting, not only for the
novel views which it contains, but for the
admirable way in which the author has
presented the leading facts of his subject,
as drawn from the whole range of living
Nature. The print is good, and the illus
trations, of which there are one hundred
and fifty, are also well done.

LECTURES ON SOME RECENT ADVANCES IN
PHYSICAL SCIENCE. By P. G. TAIT, M. A.
Pp. 337. Macraillan & Co. Price, $2.50.

THE disputes that have arisen in various
quarters regarding the honor due to differ
ent investigators for working out the mod

ern doctrines of "Energy" have been par
ticipated in by Prof. Tait, of Edinburgh,
and this volume is probably due to his in
terest in the controversy. He was invited
by a number of his friends to give a course
of lectures on the chief advances made in
natural philosophy since their student-days,
and the author remarks that "the only
special requests made to me were, that I
should treat fully the modern history of
energy, and that I should publish the lect
ures verbatim." The strictly historic part,
however, is by no means the main, or the
most important, feature of the work. It
furnishes its method, but the book is valu
able chiefly as explaining and expounding
the modern doctrines of energy in a manner
at once popular and thorough. No adequate
exposition of these views has yet gained en
trance into our text-books of physics ; and
a work was much needed, by a competent
man, which would present the whole ques
tion in its latest aspects. The volume of
Prof. Tait, though not without its defects,
may be commended as meeting this want
in a tolerably satisfactory manner.

THROUGH AND THROUGH THE TROPICS. By
FRANK VINCENT, Jr. New York : Har
per & Brothers. Pp. 304.

THIRTY thousand miles of travel affords
large opportunity for observations, and to
give an account of them in a book of three
hundred pages seems a hopeless task. Mr.
Vincent, however, has made the attempt in
this racy book, and has succeeded fairly in
presenting a series of descriptions of some
of the more important places visited by
him, and the reader follows him with inter
est to the close. His chapters on the Sand
wich Islands, and on the journey to High
Asia, to the sacred city of the Hindoos, and
to the famous Taj Mahal, are especially full
of interest.

THE EARLY LITERATURE OF CHEMISTR-Y. VI.
By H. C. BOLTON.

THIS sixth part of Dr. Bolton s "Notes
on the Early Literature of Chemistry"
treats of the ancient papyrus-book on medi
cine discovered by Ebers at Thebes, Egypt,
two or three years ago. Dr. Bolton gives the
table of contents of the book with some
selected passages translated out of the hie
ratic original.

LITERARY NOTICES.

249

A TREATISE ON THE DISEASES OF THE NER
VOUS SYSTEM. By WILLIAM A. HAM
MOND, M. D. New York : D. Appleton
& Co. Pp. 883, with 109 Illustrations.
Price, $6.

THE standing of this work may be in
ferred from the fact that it has gone to the
sixth edition, and, having been out of print
a year, reappears rewritten, enlarged, and
much improved. Dr. Hammond has made
the subject of this work a specialty, and
his extensive medical practice in the de
partment of nervous diseases can hardly
fail to give much practical value to his
treatise upon the subject. The work is
written for medical students and the pro
fession, but other people can collect a great
deal of information from it, curious and
valuable, in regard to nervous actions, con
ditions, and disorders.

In his preface Dr. Hammond says : " One
feature I may, however, with justice claim
for this work, and that is, that it rests to a
great extent on my own observation and ex
perience, and is, therefore, no mere compi
lation. The reader will readily perceive that
I have views of my own on every disease
considered, and that I have not hesitated to
express them." Obviously, the great ob
scurity and unsettledness of our knowledge,
both of the physiology and pathology of
the nervous system, offer a strong tempta
tion to confident minds to form and pro
mulgate positive opinions concerning them,
but the same causes should enforce caution
upon the student in their acceptance.

PAINTERS MAGAZINE. Monthly, pp. 40. A.
G-. Sullivan, Editor and Publisher.

THE eighth number of the second annual
volume has just been published, and pre
sents to its readers an excellent and varied
table of contents, besides some useful illus
trations for the practical painter, artist, etc.
The contributions are from some of the
best writers of the day upon the various
branches of painting. This magazine must
be useful not only to the painter, but also
to the architect and builder. That a better
idea may be had, we give the headings of
leading articles, viz. : House-Painting ; In
terior or Mural Decoration; Pigment and
Color; Hints on Drawing; Answers to
Correspondents ; Railway-Car Painting, etc.
Price, $1.50 per annum.

MAGNETISM AND ELECTRICITY. By F. GUTH-
RIE. New York : Putnams. Price, $1.50.

IN this little volume, Prof. Guthrie, of the
Royal School of Mines, London, presents to
the general student of magnetism and elec
tricity a very full compendium of that sci
ence. In directness of statement and clear
ness of expression this treatise is deserving
of very high praise, and these qualities it
doubtless owes to the circumstance that it is
based upon the notes of the lectures deliv-
ered by the author for many years to min
ing students and science-teachers. " The
work is illustrated with over 300 woodcuts.

NOTES ON BUILDING CONSTRUCTION. For
sale by Lippiucott, Philadelphia.

THIS is the first of a series of three vol
umes, intended to assist pupils who are pre
paring for the examinations in building
construction held annually under the direc
tion of the Science and Art Department of
the British Government. This first part
treats of the points laid down as necessary
for the examination in the elementary
course. The subjects discussed are : Wall
ing and arches ; brickwork ; masonry ; car
pentry ; floors ; partitions ; timber roofs ;
iron roofs ; slating ; plumbing ; cast-iron
girders ; joinery.

LEGAL CHEMISTRY. By A. NAQUET. Pp.

178. Price, $2. New York : Van Nos-

trand.

THE title of this work sufficiently indi
cates its purport, namely, the solution oi
chemical problems arising in the adminis
tration of justice. As a matter of course,
the subject of the detection of poisons re
ceives the most attention ; but the author
also describes the processes to be adopted
for examining sundry alimentary and phar
maceutical substances, for examining writ
ten documents, blood-stains, etc. The trans
lator of the work, Dr. J. P. Battershall, ap
pends a list of- books and memoirs on the
subject of toxicology and the allied branches.

PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS OF THE DINOCERATA.

By Prof. 0. C. MARSH.

THIS is a reprint from the American
Journal of Science and Art. Besides the
letter-press, the paper contains six litho
graphic plates giving views of the skull, den
tition, jaw, feet, etc., of Dinocerata.

250

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

PUBLICATIONS EECEIVED.

Structure and Relation of Dinichthys.
By J. S. Newberry. Pp. 64. With Plates.
Columbus, Ohio : Nevins & Myers.

Chemistry, Practical and Analytical.
Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Philadelphia: Lippin-
cott & Co.

Report on Vienna Bread. By E. N.
Horsford. Pp. 130. Washington : Gov
ernment Printing-Office.

Worcester Lyceum and Natural History
Association. By N. Payne. Pp. 13.

Land and Fresh-Water Mollusca found
in the vicinity of Cinciunati. Pp. 5.

Man : Palaeolithic, Neolithic, etc., not in
consistent with Scripture. By Nemo. Dub
lin : Hodges, Foster & Co. Pp.137. Price,
five shillings.

Bulletin of the United States Geological
and Geographical Survey of the Territories.
Vol. II., Nos. 1 and 2. Washington : Gov
ernment Printing-Office. Pp. 90 and 100.

Bulletin of the Bussey Institution. Part
5. Pp. 95

Roads, Streets, and Pavements. By
Brevet Major-Genoral Gillmore. Pp. 258.
New York : Van Nostrand. Price, $2.

American Catholic Quarterly Review.
Vol. I., No. 2. Pp. 190. Philadelphia :
Hardy & Mahony. Price, $5 per annum.

Tansactions of the Kansas Academy of
Science. Vol. IV., pp. 64. Topeka : G. W.
Martin, Printer.

Geological Survey of Ohio. Paleontolo
gy, Vol. II., pp.432, with numerous Plates ;
Geology, Vol. II., pp. 700, with Maps. Co
lumbus : Nevins & Myers, State Printers.

Physics and Hydraulics of the Missis
sippi River. By J. B. Eads, C. E. Pp. 33.
New Orleans : Picayune Print.

The Drift of Devon and Cornwall. By
T. Belt, F. G. S. Pp.11.

Urinary Calculus. By W. F. Westmore
land, M. D. Pp. 11. Atlanta, Georgia:
Dunlop, Wynne & Co.

The " One-Rail " Railroad. By C. J.
Quetil. New York : Cheap Transportation
Association.

List of Skeletons and Crania in the Ar
my Medical Museum, Washington. Pp. 52.

The Opium-Habit. By S. E. Chaille, M.

D. Pp. 9. From the New Orleans Medical
and Surgical Journal. Also, Climatother-
apy of Consumption. Same author. Pp. 16.

Michigan State Board of Health Report,
1875. Pp. 170.

Transcendentalism. By Theodore Par
ker. Boston : Free Religious Association.
Pp. 39. Price, 10 cents.

Mechanical Construction of Water, By
Captain J. E. Cole. Pp. 27. New York :

E. O Keefe, Printer.

Hospitals for the Sick and Insane. Pp.
54. Albany : Weed, Parsons & Co.

Deed of Trust of James Lick. Pp. 24.

New Orleans Price Current, 1876. Pp.
89.

MISCELLANY.

A Moth that bores for its Food. The

order of Lepidoptera, which includes moths
and butterflies, is almost universally char
acterized as possessing a flexible trunk,
by means of which the insects suck up
the nectar of flowers. Indeed, the pos
session of a flexible trunk is commonly re
garded as one of the distinguishing char
acteristics of this order.- A few years ago,
however, a French botanist, M. Thozet, then
residing in Australia, discovered a moth
(Ophideres fullonica) which possessed a
trunk so rigid as to be able to pierce the rinds
of oranges and suck their juice. Another
Australian observer having since called at
tention to the depredations of this moth, M.
J. Kiinckel was led to examine the trunks of
Ophideres which had been sent to him from
Australia by M. Thozet. This trunk he de
clares to be a perfect instrument, and says
that it would be an excellent model for the
making of new tools to be employed in
boring holes in various materials. It re
sembles the barbed lance, the gimlet, and
the rasp, and hence can pierce, bore, and
tear, at the same time allowing liquids to
pass without impediment by the internal
canal. The two applied maxillae constitut
ing the organ terminate in a sharp triangu-

MISCELLANY.

251

lar point, furnished with two barbs ; then
they become enlarged, and present on the
lower surface three portions of the thread
of a screw, while their sides and their up
per surface are covered with short, strong
spines, projecting from the centre of a de
pression with hard and abrupt margins.
The purpose of these spines is to tear the
cells of the orange-pulp, as the rasp serves
to open the cells of the beet-root, in order
to extract sugar. The upper region of the
trunk is covered below and on the sides
with fine, close-set striae, arranged in half-
screws, which give it the properties of a
file; the striae are interrupted here and
there by small spines of soft consistence,
which serve for the perception of tactile
sensations. The orifice of the canal is situ
ated in the lower surface, below the first
screw-third. All this will be seen better
from the annexed figures :

TRUNK OF OpJiideres fullonica A, in Profile; B,
from below ; <?, from above ; I, Interior Canal ;
o, Orifice of the Canal.

On investigation, M. Kiinckel has found
that all the species of the genus Ophidcrcs
possess a similar terebrant trunk. This
circumstance establishes a closer relation
ship between the Lepidoptcra, the Hcmip-
tera, and certain Diptera in which the max
illae are adapted to pierce tissues.

As we learn from Prof. A. R. Grote, the
group of Noctuldce to which Ophideres be
longs, called by Borkhausen Fasciatce, is
represented by only a few forms in Europe,
but it is largely developed in the tropics of
both hemispheres. The peculiar structure
of the maxillee observed in Ophideres has

not been found in any of the North Amer
ican genera o f the group. In the genus
Catocata, which is largely represented in
North America, the spiral tongue or trunk
is simply furnished with lateral papillae, ap
pearing like serratures, toward the extrem
ity of the trunk.

( mining of the Adder, A correspond
ent of the Milwaukee Sentinel confirms Mr.
Lewis s observations on the cunning of the
adder (in the February number of the
MONTHLY). This correspondent states that,
over thirty years ago, in Leeds, Greene
County, New York, his attention was one
day attracted by the plaintive cry of a cat.
Looking into a garden, an adder was seen
near the cat. The cat seemed to be com
pletely paralyzed by fear of the adder ; she
kept up the plaintive cry, as if in great dis
tress, but did not take her eye off the ser
pent, or make any attempt to attack or es
cape. Soon the snake saw that human
eyes were observing him, and he com
menced to crawl slowly away. "I then,"
continues the writer of the narrative, " con
cluded to release the cat from its trouble.
I took a garden-rake and put it on the
snake s back, and held it without hurting it.
As soon as I had the snake fast in this po
sition, it raised its head, flattened it out, .and
blew, making a hissing noise, and something
resembling breath or steam came from its
mouth. When that was exhausted I re
moved the rake, and the adder turned over
on its back, lying as if dead. With the
rake I turned it over on its belly again, but
it immediately turned on its back. This
was repeated several times. At last it was
taken out of the garden, laid in the road,
and we all retired to watch its movements.
It commenced to raise and turn its head
slowly (looking about the while), until en
tirely on its belly, and started at full speed
for a little pool of water in the road, frora
which it was raked out and dispatched."

Measurio? Distances by Sonnd. The

Prussian correspondent of the London
Times makes mention of an instrument de
vised by Major Le Boulanger, of the Bel
gian Artillery, which, with great accuracy,
indicates the distance between two armies
from the report of their guns. The mo-

2 5 2

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

ment the enemy fires a shot, the action of
the report upon the "telemeter" marks
the distance to a fraction. The instrument
is entirely self-acting, easily kept in order,
and requires no particular experience or
intricate calculations to use it aright. The
experiments to which it has been subjected
in Prussia and in some other countries are
stated to have been completely successful
as regards cannon. Experiments in the
rifle-grounds are still going on. Even
should the invention be confined to artil
lery, its effect must be tremendous, consid
ering the present deadly efficiency of fire
arms. One of its principal advantages, it
is supposed, will be to enable gunners in a
coast-battery to determine the position of
a hostile ship a calculation hitherto fraught
with special difficulty.

Sir John Lnbbock on the Habits of Ants.

Sir John Lubbock still continues his ob
servations of ants, and at a recent meeting
of the Linnean Society of London read a
paper in which he treated 1. Of the power
of intercommunication among ants ; 2.
Their organs of sense; 3. Their affection
or regard for one another. The results are
chiefly negative, contradicting many gen
erally-received opinions. To test the ants
power of communicating information to one
another, the author had a glass box for the
"nest," so that he could watch what was
done inside. This was placed on a pole.
On the other side of the pole was a board
intended as a promenade for the ants. Near
to this were three pieces of glass, connected
with the board by strips of paper. On one
of the pieces of glass was placed a collec
tion of food, and on the other two there
was nothing. Two ants were taken and
marked with spots of color, as in former
observations, so that they should be readily
recognized. These were both taken, one
after the other, to the store of food, and
were guided and taught their way to the
nest. They soon learned their way to and
from the nest to the food-supply, coming
out of the door along the outside to the
pole, around that, across the board, along
the paper bridge, and so to the glass that
supported the food, and so back again to
the nest. Sir John Lubbock s object was
to watch whether the other ants in the nest

would -find out the food, and, if so, to test
as far as possible whether they found it
from information given, or whether they
tracked the scent. He devoted certain pe
riods to watching the movements of the
ants, counting the number of journeys made
by his marked ants, and also recording how
many untaught strangers made their way
from the board along the right bridge to
the food. At his first period of observation
he found that, while his marked ants made
forty journeys with food, nineteen strangers
also came on to the bridges. Of these, two
only turned to the food, eight turned to the
wrong bridge, and the rest went straight
on. Modifications in the arrangements of
the bridges were made in different ways,
while the rest of the construction was left
unaltered. The observations made on dif
ferent days and during periods of different
duration all showed the same result.

In referring to the organs of sense, Sir
John had endeavored to ascertain whether
the antennae are organs of hearing or of
smell. He had tried them with all sorts of
noises he could contrive, and found no re
sults. If ants have hearing, they must be
sensible to those vibrations of the air which
do not affect the human ear. But he had
also tried the antennae with smells, and he
found that if he put a fine earners-hair
pencil with a scent on it near one of them
it shrank away, and then, if applied to the
other, that also turned away. The use of
the antennae, however, still needs inves
tigation, and Sir John hopes soon to make
further observations. As regards their af
fection for one another, he does not doubt
that an ant that dies ladeu with food will
be cared for by its companions ; but he
brought forward a number of instances in
which he had put ants that had suffered
immersion in water for periods of from an
hour to ten hours in the way of ants that
were passing by, and he found almost inva
riably that they took no notice of their un
fortunate brethren. Indeed, the exceptions
in which any attention was paid were so
few that Sir John said he was disposed to
regard these as ants with individual feel-
ings, which were by no means those com
mon to the community. It is understood
that the results of Sir John Lubbock s long-
continued researches into the habits of bees

MISCELLANY.

253

and ants will be given to the public before
long in a volume of the "International
Scientific Series."

Sea - Soundings without a Line. Dr.

Siemens exhibited, at a recent meeting
of the London Royal Society, an instrument
devised by himself for ascertaining the
depth of the sea. In explaining the prin
ciple of this instrument, Mr. Siemens ob
served that the total gravitation of the
earth, as measured on its normal surface,
is composed of the separate attractions of
its parts, and that the attractive influence
of each equal volume varies directly as its
density and inversely as the square of its
distance from the point cf measurement.
The density of sea-water being about 1.026,
and that of the solid constituents compos
ing the earth s crust about 2.763, it follows
that an intervening depth of sea-water must
exercise a sensible influence upon total
gravitation if measured on the surface of
the tea. His instrument, which he calls a
bathometer, is described in the London
Times as consisting "essentially of a ver
tical column of mercury, contained in a
steel tube having cup-like extensions at
both extremities, so as to increase the ter
minal area of the mercury. The lower cup
is closed by means of a corrugated dia
phragm of thin steel plate, and the weight
of the column of mercury is balanced in
the centre of the diaphragm by the elastic
force derived from two carefully-tempered
spiral steel springs of the same length as
the mercury-column. One of the peculiar
ities of this mechanical arrangement is,
that it is parathermal, the diminishing elas
tic force of the springs with rise of tem
perature being compensated by a similar
decrease of potential of the mercury-col
umn, which decrease depends upon the
proportions given to the areas of the steel
tube and its cup-like extension*."

The instrument is suspended in such a
manner as to retain the vertical position,
notwithstanding the motion of the ship,
and the vertical oscillations of the mercury
are almost entirely prevented by a local
contraction of the mercury-column to a very
small orifice. The reading of the instru
ment is effected by means of electrical con
tact, which is established between the end

of a micrometer-screw and the centre of
the elastic diaphragm. The pitch of the
screw and the divisions in the rim are so
proportioned that each division represents
the diminution of gravity due to one fathom
of depth. Actual experiment has shown
the apparatus to be very reliable.

Formation of Mountain - Chains. This

subject is considered by Prof. Joseph Le
Conte in the April number of the American
Journal of Science, in which interesting
facts are presented, the results of obser
vations made by the author in the Coast
Range of California. He finds that the
actual length of the folded strata is about
two and a half to three times the horizon
tal distance through the mountains. It
thus appears that from fifteen to eighteen
miles of strata, that is, of original sea-
bottom, has been crushed or mashed into
six miles, with " corresponding up-swelling
of the whole mass."

This diminution of distance, according
to the theory of Prof. Le Conte, has not
arisen from folding of the strata, but by
mashing of them by horizontal pressure.

From the flattened and elongated form
of little nodules of clay found in some of
the strata, he concludes that their elonga
tion vertically exactly correlates their short
ening horizontally, and that the one is to
the other as two and a half or three is to
one. It thus appears that in the compres
sion of the beds their constituent particles
underwent a change of form corresponding
with the conditions of the pressure.

These clay pellets or nodules are sup
posed to have been formed on the bottom
of gently-flowing streams, are a part of the
original sedimentary beds, and are the same
in character as those which form greenish
spots in slate, as described by Prof. Tyn-
dall.

It will be seen that, in accounting for
the elevation of mountain-chains, Prof. Le
Conte differs from Prof. Dana in this : that
waile they agree that mountain-chains are
formed by yielding of the earth s crust,
Prof. Dana attaches importance chiefly to
the bending and plication of it, Prof. Le
Conte to the crushing of it. He says, " I
am satisfied that Prof. Dana greatly under
estimates the amount of elevation by sim
ple mashing as compared with folding."

254

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

Brain- Weight and Mental Power. Great

weight of brain is commonly regarded as
evidence of great cerebral power. That
this conclusion, however, is erroneous, is
shown by Dr. Kobert Lawson, who, in the
Lancet, compares the brain-weights of some
of the great men of modern times with the
brain- weights of lunatics who died in the
West Riding Asylum. He gives the follow
ing instructive table :

Ounces. Ounces.

Brain -weight of Dr. Chalmers . . , . 53 Lunatic 58

Daniel Webster.. 53.5 " 58

" Sir J. Y. Simpson 54 " 5S.5

" Goodsir 57.5 " 59.5

" Abercrombie 63 " 60.5

" Cuvier 64 " 61

It will be observed that only Abercrombie
and Cuvier surpass in weight of brain the
inmates of the asylum. One of these lu
natics, he whose brain weighed 61 ounces,
was seventy-one years of age when he died ;
when he was forty-five, his brain probably
weighed not less than 64 ounces, thus equal
ing in weight the brain of the great Cuvier,
and exceeding that of Daniel Webster by
20 per cent. From all this it follows that
great weight of brain is not in itself a con
clusive evidence of great intellect.

From this comparison of brain-weights,
Dr. Lawson passes to the consideration of
the relations between geuius and insanity.
"Every day," he says, "the observation of
the poet, that great wit is nearly allied to
madness, gains a wider and more practical
acceptance. So much is this the case that
Dr. Wilks ventures to make the statement
that it is probably the insane element which
imparts what we call genius to the human
race, the true celestial fire. And though it
is fearful to think of the propagation of a
race tainted with insanity, yet it does not
follow that an infusion of the insane blood
may not be desirable. Dr. Maudsley holds
the same opinion."

Preservation of Zoological Specimens.

Last summer, Profs. Yerrill and Rice, of Yale
College, made a number of experiments to
ascertain the effects of various chemical
preparations upon marine invertebrates, the
objects being to improve existing methods
of preserving specimens and to ascertain
the best means of killing in an expanded
state species which ordinarily contract very
much when put directly into alcohol. The

results are given in the American Journal of
Science, by Prof. Verrill, who says that sev
eral very fine preparations of Actinia in
a state of nearly perfect expansion were
made by slowly adding a concentrated solu
tion of picric acid to a small quantity of sea-
water in which they had been allowed to ex
pand. When fairly dead, they were trans
ferred to a pure saturated solution of the
acid, and allowed to remain from one to
three hours. They were then placed in
alcohol for permanent preservation. The
alcohol should be renewed after a day or
two, and this should be repeated until all
the water has been absorbed from the speci
men. Hydroids and most kinds of jelly-fish
es can be easily preserved in the same way.
Even delicate Ctenophorce can be thus pre
served so as to make fair specimens. The
experiments were made with the view of
finding some poison that will kill mollusks,
especially gasteropods, in a fully-extended
state, but the results were negative ; at
least no method was discovered that is
more generally successful than that of al
lowing them to suffocate in stale sea-water,
through excess of carbonic acid and de
ficiency of oxygen.

Improvement of the Steam-Enginc. In

giving testimony before the Government Com
missioners on the Advancement of Science in
Great Britain, Mr. Anderson, superintendent
of machinery at Woolwich, spoke of Joule s
experiments on the conservation of energy
as of immense value and as being an exam
ple of what government should do for the
common good. Joule had made engineers
thoroughly dissatisfied with their present
knowledge as to what they can do with
steam. " I believe," he continued, " that
what Joule did will do more for this coun
try than even what James Watt did. The
part that James Watt took was very great,
and the world gives him full credit for it ;
but the world is scarcely willing to give
credit to Joule. Engineers know that the
best steam-engine is not doing one-sixth of
the work which it ought to do and can do.
That is a sad state of matters to be in when
we know that we are so far wrong, but yet
no one will go to the trouble of going to the
end of the question so as to improve the
steam-engine as it might be done."

NOTES.

Underground Forests in the Thames Val
ley. An interesting geological discovery,
as we learn from Nature, was recently made
during excavations for a new tidal basin at
the Surrey Commercial Docks, London.
On penetrating some six feet below the sur
face, the workmen everywhere came across
a subterranean forest-bed, consisting of
peat with trunks of trees, for the most part
still standing erect. All are of species still
inhabiting Britain ; the oak, alder, and wil
low, are apparently most abundant. The
trees are not mineralized, but retain their
vegetable character, except that they are
thoroughly saturated with water. In the
peat are found bones of the great fossil ox.
Fresh-water shells are also found. No doubt
is entertained that the bed thus exposed is
a continuation of the old buried forest which
has been brought to light at various other
localities on both sides of the Thames. In
each case the forest-bed is found buried be
neath the marsh-clay, showing that the land
has sunk below the tidal level since the for
est flourished.

The Meditation of Infants. From ex
periments made by Dr. Lewald it appears
that sundry medicines are most advanta
geously introduced into the system of .an
infant through the mother s milk. Thus of
iron a larger quantity can be administered
to the infant in this way than by any other
means. Bismuth, however, is eliminated in
the milk only in very small quantity. Iodine
does not appear in the milk until ninety-six
hours after taking it ; iodide of potassium
appears four hours after ingestion, and
continues to be eliminated for eleven days.
Arsenic appears in the milk at the end of
seventeen hours, and continues for at least
forty hours. Oxide of zinc, though one of
the most insoluble preparations, is elimi
nated by the milk ; it disappears sooner than
iron. The elimination of antimony is an
undeniable fact, and it is well to bear this
in mind during the period of nursing ; the
same holds true in regard to mercurial prep
arations. That alcohol and narcotics are
eliminated by the milk has not been demon
strated. Sulphate of quinine is eliminated
very easily, and a child suffering from inter
mittent fever was cured by administering
quinine to the nurse.

NOTES.

THE printing-press at which Benjamin
Franklin worked in London will be exhib-.
ited at Philadelphia. This press was at
one time the property of Harrild & Sous,
of London, but in 1841 they allowed it to
be forwarded to Philadelphia. By way of
acknowledgment, a sum of money was to
be handed over to the Printers Pension
Corporation, for the purpose of founding a
pension for an aged printer. This has nev
er been done, and hence Franklin s press
by right belongs to Messrs. Harrild, and
should appear at the Centennial Exhibition
as an English and not an American exhibit.

IN the "Annual of Natural Science," of
Wurtemberg, Otto Hahn has an elaborate
review of the Eozoon Canadense question.
This article, which is very long, is published
in the Annals and Magazine of Natural His
tory, for April. The author, after an ex
amination of the geological, the mineralogi-
cal, and the zoological facts, pronounces the
so-called eozoon structures to be purely
mineral in their origin.

IN replying to Tyndall, Dr. Bastian cites
a number of investigators as supporting his
views on biogenesis. Among the authori
ties thus quoted are E. Ray Lankester and
Dr. Pode ; but the former of these two gen
tlemen now writes to Nature, saying that
their (i. e., Lankester s and Pode s) results
" conclusively and categorically contradict
the particular assertions contained in Dr.
Bastian s book, The Beginnings of Life,
into the truth of which they set themselves
to inquire."

SPECIMENS of paper and cardboard made
from peat were recently presented to the
Berlin Polytechnic Association by Herr
Veyt-Meyer. The paper and cardboard
were very firm, and the latter was so thick
that it might be planed and polished. Pa
per made of peat alone is like that made
from wood or straw; but only fifteen per
cent, of rags is needed to give it consistence.
A large factory for the manufacture of peat
paper is to be established in Prussia.

IN order to act intelligently against the
cotton-worm, Southern planters are advised
by Prof. A. R. Grote to act in concert. He
further recommends that, whatever agent is
employed to destroy the worm, be used
against the first brood that appears in the
locality, so as to prevent its spreading far
ther. It is highly desirable that the life-
history and habits of such insect-pests
should be thoroughly studied, with a view to
their extermination.

PROF. BENJAMIN SILLIMAN, of Yale Col
lege, has patented a process for giving reso-

2 5 6

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

nance to sundry alloys, such as britannia
metal, pewter, etc., which commonly give
only a dull sound when struck. According
to the Engineering and Mining Journal, the
process consists in submitting articles made
of these alloys to the action of a certain
degree of temperature, just below their
melting-point, for a short time, in a bath of
oil or paraffine. The theory of the process
appears to turn upon a rearrangement, per
haps a crystallization, of the molecules.

THE Phylloxera Commission, appointed
by the Paris Academy of Science, to award
the Government prize of 300,000 francs for
the discovery of an effectual means of de
stroying the Phylloxera, has reported that
none of the specifics submitted to them, are
entitled to the prize.

DR. EWALD records, in Reicherfs A rchiv,
an instance of the production of a hydro
carbon gas in the stomach of a man suffer
ing from chronic gastritis. The man, one
day, while lighting a cigar, was surprised to
see his breath take fire, and burn with a
yellow flame. Dr. Ewald afterward analyzed
some of this gas, and found it to consist of
hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen, carbonic acid,
and a considerable portion (about ten per
cent.) of marsh gas.

ABOUT ten per cent, of the Cape dia
monds are of first quality, fifteen per cent,
of second, twenty of third. The remain
der are employed for cutting diamonds, and
for the numerous applications of this gem
in the arts. It is estimated that the value
of the diamonds found at the Cape from
March, 1867, to the present time exceeds
12,000,000.

DR. RICHARDSON, of London, cites the
high death-rate of innkeepers, publicans,
and the like, as evidence of the fatal effects
of intoxicating drink. In London the mor
tality of all males is 2.012 per cent, annu
ally ; that of publicans, 3.466 per cent. In
England, exclusive of London, the mortality
of all males is 1.182 per cent, annually; of
publicans 3.163 per cent. It is a striking
fact that the death-rate in this class is high
er than in any other class of male occupa
tions named in the census, save one the
hackney-coach man.

SALICYLIC acid has been used with good
results in Germany, in the treatment of re
cent superficial gangrenous sores, the method
being to apply a thin layer of powdered
salicylic acid on the surface of the sore,
covering it then with wadding.

EXPERIMENTS lately made in France show
that air laden with coal-dust is highly ex
plosive. Several cases of explosion in coal
mines have been traced to the action of sus
pended coal-dust when no fire-damp was
prsent.

THE practice of scalping is not peculiar
to the American aborigines. Southall, in
his " Recent Origin of Man," quotes from
Herodotus to show that the Scythians used
to scalp their fallen enemies. In the pres
ent time the wild tribes of Northeastern
Bengal use the scalping-knife.

AN expedition under the leadership of
Prof. Nordenskiold will start next summer
to explore a commercial route from North
ern Russia to Behring Strait. Funds have
also been contributed toward the cost of
another expedition to explore the gulf of
Obi and the sea-route between Archangel
and the great rivers of Siberia.

EDMUND A. PARKES, M. D., F. R. S., Pro
fessor of Military Hygiene in the Army Medi
cal School at Netley, England, died March
15th, at the age of fifty-six years. During
the Crimean War he was selected by Govern
ment to organize and conduct a hospital,
and on his return to England was appointed
to the chair of Hygiene at Netley. His
annual contributions on hygiene were for
many years, perhaps the most valuable feat
ure of the blue-books of the War Depart
ment. He was a very successful teacher,
and a frequent contributor to the medical
press, and to the " Transactions " ofscientific
bodies. His " Manual of Practical Hygiene "
has reached a fourth edition.

DIED, March 29th, Dr. Henry Letheby,
for many years lecturer on chemistry and
toxicology in the London Hospital, and
chemical analyst of the city of London. He
was the author of a number of papers on
sanitary and chemical subjects, published in
sundry medical journals. His work on
"Food" was republished in this country
three years ago. At the time of his death
he was sixty years of age.

NEARLY all the amber of commerce cornea
from Eastern Prussia, where it is obtained
by dredging the bottom of the sea just off
the coast. It was recently discovered that
amber occurs jn a deposit called the " blue
earth." It has been supposed that this
deposit extends for some distance inland,
and a shaft was recently sunk to determine
this point. At the depth of 140 feet there
was found a stratum of " blue earth " with
out amber and two feet in thickness ; then
came another stratum five feet thick, which
was rich in amber.

THERE are few who do not remember the
childish wonder they once felt at hearing
the resonance produced by placing a sea-
shell to the ear, an effect which fancy has
likened to "the roar of the sea." This is
caused by the hollow form of the shell and
its polished surface, enabling it to receive
and return the beatings of all sounds that
chance to be trembling in the air. Public
Opinion.

ALEXANDER BAIN.

THE

POPULAR SCIENCE
MONTHLY,

JULY, 1876.
THE MECHANICAL ACTION OF LIGHT. 1

BY WILLIAM CEOOKES, F. E. S.

TO generate motion has been found a characteristic common, with
one exception, to all the phases of physical force. We hold the
bulb of a thermometer in our hands, and the mercury expands in bulk,
and, rising along the scale, indicates the increase of heat it has re
ceived. We heat water, and it is converted into steam, and moves
our machinery, our carriages, and our iron-clads. We bring a load
stone near a number of iron-filings, and they move toward it, arrang
ing themselves in peculiar and intricate lines ; or we bring a piece of
iron near a magnetic needle, and we find it turned away from its ordi
nary position. We rub a piece of glass with silk, thus throwing it
into a state of electrical excitement, and we find that bits of paper or
thread fly toward it, and are, in a few moments, repelled again. If
we remove the supports from a mass of matter it falls, the influence
of gravitation being here most plainly expressed in motion, as shown
in clocks and water-mills. If we fix pieces of paper upon a stretched
string, and then sound a musical note near it, we find certain of the
papers projected from their places. Latterly the so-called " sensitive
flames," which are violently agitated by certain musical notes, have
become well known as instances of the conversion of sound into motion.
How readily chemical force undergoes the same transformation is
manifested in such catastrophes as those of Bremerhaven, in the
recent deplorable coal-mine explosions, and indeed in every discharge
of a gun.

But light, in some respects the highest of the powers of Nature,
has not been hitherto found capable of direct conversion into motion,
and such an exception cannot but be regarded as a singular anomaly.

This anomaly the researches which I am about to bring before you

1 A lecture delivered at the Royal Institution.

TOL. IX. 17

258 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

have now removed ; and, like the other forms of force, light is found
to be capable of direct conversion into motion, and of being like
heat, electricity, magnetism, sound, gravitation, and chemical action
most delicately and accurately measured by the amount of motion
thus produced.

My research arose from the study of an anomaly.

It is well known to scientific men that bodies appear to weigh less
when they are hot than when they are cold ; the explanation given
being that the ascending currents of hot air buoy up the body, so to
speak. Wishing to get rid of this and other interfering actions of the
air during a research on the atomic weight of thallium, I had a balance
constructed in which I could weigh in a vacuum. I still, indeed,
found my apparatus less heavy when hot than when cold. The obvi
ous explanations were evidently not the true ones ; obvious explana
tions seldom are true ones, for simplicity is not a characteristic of
Nature.

An unknown disturbing cause was interfering, and the endeavor
to find the clew to the apparent anomaly has led to the discovery of
the mechanical action of light.

I was long troubled by the apparent lawlessness of the actions I
obtained. By gradually increasing the delicacy of my apparatus I
could easily get certain results of motion when hot bodies were
brought near them, but sometimes it was one of attraction, at others
of repulsion, while occasionally no movement whatever was produced.

I will try to reproduce these phenomena in this apparatus (Fig. 1).
Here are two glass bulbs, each containing a bar of pith about three
inches long and half an inch thick, suspended horizontally by a
long fibre of cocoon silk. I bring a hot glass rod, or a candle, toward
one of them, and you see that the pith is gradually attracted, follow
ing the candle as I move it round the bulb. That seems a very defi
nite fact ; but look at the action in the other bulb. I bring the candle,
or a hot glass rod, near the other bar of pith, and it is strongly re
pelled by it, much more strongly than it was attracted in the first
instance.

Here, again, is a third fact. I bring a piece of ice near the pith-bar
which has just been repelled by the hot rod, and it is attracted, and
follows the rod round as a magnetic needle follows a piece of iron.

The repulsion by radiation is the key-note of these researches.
The movement of a small bar of pith is not very distinct, except to
those near, and, I wish to make this repulsion evident to all. I have
therefore arranged a piece of apparatus by which it can be seen by all
present. I will, by means of the electric light, project an image of a
pendulum suspended in vacuo on the screen. You see that the ap
proach of a candle gives the bob a veritable push, and, by alternately
obscuring and uncovering the light, I can make the pendulum beat
time to my movements.

THE MECHANICAL ACTION OF LIGHT.

259

What, then, is the cause of the contradictory action in these two
bulbs attraction in one, and repulsion in the other ? It can be ex
plained in a few words. Attraction takes place when air is present,
and repulsion when air is absent.

Neutrality, or no movement, is produced when the vacuum is insuf
ficient. A minute trace of air in the
apparatus interferes most materially
with the repulsion, and for a long
time I was unaware of the powerful
action produced by radiation in a
" perfect " vacuum.

It is not at first sight obvious
how ice or a cold body can produce
the opposite effect to heat. The law
of exchanges, however, explains this

FIG. I.

FIG. 2.

perfectly. The pith-bar and the whole of the surrounding bodies are
incessantly exchanging heat-rays ; and under ordinary circumstances
the income and expenditure of heat are in equilibrium. Let me draw
your attention to the diagram (Fig. 2), illustrating what takes place
when I bring a piece of ice near the apparatus. The centre circle
represents my piece of pith ; the arrows show the influx and efflux of
heat. A piece of ice brought near cuts off the influx of heat from one
side, and therefore allows an excess of heat to fall on the pith from
the opposite side. Attraction by a cold body is therefore seen to be
only repulsion by the radiation from the opposite side of the room.

The later developments of this research have demanded the
utmost refinement of apparatus. Everything has to be conducted in
glass vessels, and these must be blown together till they make one
piece, for none but fused joints are admissible. In an investigation
depending for its successful prosecution on manipulative dexterity, I
have been fortunate in having the assistance of my friend Mr. Charles
Gimingham. All the apparatus you see before you are the fruits of
his skillful manipulation, and I now want to draw your attention to

2 6o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

what I think is a masterpiece of glass-working the pump which en
ables me so readily to produce a vacuum unattainable by ordinary
means.

The pump here at work is a modification of the Sprengel pump,
but it contains two or three valuable improvements. I cannot at
tempt to describe the whole of the arrangements, but I will rapidly
run over them as illuminated by the electric light. It has a triple-
fall tube in which the mercury is carried down, thus exhausting with
threefold rapidity; it has Dr. McLeod s beautiful arrangement for
measuring the residual gas ; it has gauges in all directions, and a
small radiometer attached to it to tell the amount of exhaustion that
I get in any experiments ; it has a contrivance for admitting oil of
vitriol into the tubes without interfering with the progress of the
exhaustion, and it is provided with a whole series of most ingenious
vacuum-taps devised by Mr. Gimingham. The exhaustion produced
in this pump is such that a current of electricity from an induction-
coil will not pass across the vacuum. This pump is now exhausting
a torsion-balance, which will be described presently. Another pump,
of a similar kind but less complicated, is exhausting an apparatus
which has enaWed me to pass from the mere exhibition of the phe
nomena to the obtaining of quantitative measurements.

A certain amount of force is exerted when a ray of light or heat
falls on the suspended pith, and I wished to ascertain

1. What were the actual rays invisible heat, luminous, or ultra
violet which caused this action ?

2. What influence had the color of the surface on the action ?

3. Was the amount of action in direct proportion to the amount
of radiation ?

4. What was the amount of force exerted by radiation ?

I required an apparatus which would be easily moved by the im
pact of light on it, but which would readily return to zero, so that
measurements might be obtained of the force exerted when different
amounts of light acted on it. At first I made an apparatus on the
principle of Zollner s horizontal pendulum. For a reason that will be
explained presently, I am unable to show you the apparatus at work,
but the principle of it is shown in the diagram (Fig. 3). The pendu
lum represented by this horizontal line has a weight at the end. It is
supported on two fibres of glass, one stretched upward and the other
stretched downward, both firmly fastened at the ends, and also at
tached to the horizontal rod (as shown in the figure) at points near
together, but not quite opposite to one another.

It is evident that if there is a certain amount of pull upon each of
these fibres, and that the pull can be so adjusted as to counteract the
weight at the end and keep it horizontal, the nearer the beam ap
proaches the horizontal line the slower its rate of oscillation. If I
relax the tension, by throwing the horizontal beam downward, I get a

THE MECHANICAL ACTION OF LIGHT. 261

more rapid oscillation sideways. If I turn the leveling-screw so as
to raise the beam and weight, the nearer it approaches the horizontal
position the slower the oscillation becomes, and the more delicate is
the instrument. Here is the actual apparatus that I tried to work
with. The weight at the end is a piece* of pith ; in the centre is a
glass mirror, on which to throw a ray of light, so as to enable me to
see the movements by a luminous index. The instrument, inclosed in
glass and exhausted of air, was mounted on a stand with leveling-
screws, and with it I tried the action of a ray of light falling on the
pith. I found that I could get any amount of sensitiveness that I
liked ; but it was not only sensitive to the impact of a ray of light, it
was immeasurably more so to a change of horizontality. It was, in
fact, too delicate for me to work with. The slightest elevation of one
end of the instrument altered the sensitiveness, or the position of the

FIG. 3.

FIG. 4.

zero-point, to such a degree that it was impossible to try any experi
ments with it in such a place as London. A person stepping from
one room to another altered the position of the centre of gravity of
the house. If I walked from one side of my own laboratory to the
other, I tilted the house over sufficiently to upset the equilibrium of
the apparatus. Children playing in the street disturbed it. Prof.
Rood, who has worked with an apparatus of this kind in America,
finds that an elevation of its side equal to 360 ooooo P art of an inch is
sufficient to be shown on the instrument. It was therefore out of the
question to use an instrument of this construction, so I tried another
form (shown in Fig. 4), in which a fine glass beam, having disks of
pith at each end, is suspended horizontally by a fine glass fibre, the
whole being sealed up in glass and perfectly exhausted. To the cen
tre of oscillation a glass mirror is attached.

Now, a glass fibre has the property of always coming back to zero
when it is twisted out of its position. It is almost, if not quite, a per
fectly elastic body. I will show this by a simple experiment. This
is a long glass fibre hanging vertically, and having an horizontal bar

z6i THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

suspended on it. I hold the bar, and turn it half round ; it swings
backward and forward for a few times, but it quickly comes back to
its original position. However much twist, however much torsion,
may be put on this, it always returns ultimately to the same position.
I have twisted glass fibres round and kept them in a permanent state
of twist more than a hundred complete revolutions, and they always
came back accurately to zero. The principle of an instrument that I
shall describe farther on depends entirely on this property of glass.

Instead of using silk to suspend the torsion-beam with, I employ a
fibre of glass, drawn out very fine before the blow-pipe. A thread of
glass of less than the thousandth of an inch in thickness is wonder
fully strong, of great stiffness, and of perfect elasticity, so that, how
ever much it is twisted round short of the breaking-point, it untwists
itself perfectly when liberated. The advantage of using glass fibres
for suspending my beam is, therefore, that it always returns accu
rately to zero after having tried an experiment, while I can get any
desired amount of sensitiveness by drawing out the glass fibre suffi
ciently fine.

Here, then, is the torsion apparatus sealed on to a Sprengel pump.
You will easily understand the construction by reference to the dia
gram (Fig. 4). It consists of an horizontal beam suspended by a glass
fibre, and having disks of pith at each end coated with lampblack.
The whole is inclosed in a glass case, made of tubes blown together,
and by means of the pump the air is entirely removed. In the centre
of the horizontal beam is a silvered mirror, and a ray from the electric
light is reflected from it on to a scale in front, where it is visible as a
small circular spot of light. It is evident that an angular movement
of the torsion-beam will cause the spot of light to move to the right
or to the left along the scale. I will first show you the wonderful
sensitiveness of the apparatus. I simply place my finger near the
pith-disk at one end, and the warmth is quite sufficient to drive the
spot of light several inches along the scale. It has now returned to
zero, and I place a candle near it. The spot of light flies off the scale.
I now bring the candle near it alternately from one side to the other,
and you see how perfectly it obeys the force of the candle. I think
the movement is almost better seen without the screen than with it.
The fog, which has been so great a detriment to every one elsej is
rather in my favor, for it shows the luminous index like a solid bar of
light swaying to and fro across the room. The warmth of my finger,
or the radiation from a candle, is therefore seen to drive the pith-
disk away. Here is a lump of ice, and on bringing it near one of the
disks the luminous index promptly shows a movement of apparent
attraction.

With this apparatus I have tried many experiments, and among
others I endeavored to answer the question, "Is it light, or is it heat,
that produces the movement ? "for that is a question that is asked

THE MECHANICAL ACTION OF LIGHT. 263

me by almost every one ; and a good many appear to think that, if
the motion can be explained by an action of heat, all the novelty and
the importance of the discovery vanish. Now, this question of light
or heat is one I cannot answer, and I think that when I have ex
plained the reason you will agree with me that it is unanswerable.
There is no physical difference between light and heat. Here is a
diagram of the visible spectrum (Fig. 5). The spectrum, as scientific

PIG. 5.

men understand it, extends from an indefinite distance beyond the red
to an indefinite distance beyond the violet. We do not know how far
it would extend one way or the other if no absorbing media were
present; but, by what we may call a physiological accident, the
human eye is sensitive to a portion of the spectrum situated between
the line A in the red to about the line H in the violet. But this is
not a physical difference between the luminous and non-luminous
parts of the spectrum; it is only a physiological difference. Now, the
part at the red end of the spectrum possesses, in the greatest degree,
the property of causing the sensation of warmth, and of dilating the
mercury in a thermometer, and of doing other things which are con
veniently classed among the effects of heat ; the centre part affects
the eye, and is therefore called light ; while the part at the other end
of the spectrum has the greatest energy in producing chemical action.
But it must not be forgotten that any ray of the spectrum, from what
ever part it is selected, will produce all these physical actions in more
or less degree. A ray here, at the letter C for instance in the orange,
if concentrated on the bulb of a thermometer, will cause the mercury
to dilate, and thus show the presence of heat ; if concentrated on my
hand I feel warmth ; if I throw it on the face of a thermo-pile it will
produce a current of electricity ; if I throw it upon a sensitive photo
graphic plate it will produce chemical action ; and if I throw it upon
the instrument I have just described it will produce motion. What,
then, am I to call that ray ? Is it light, heat, electricity, chemical
action, or motion ? It is neither. All these actions are inseparable

264 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

attributes of the ray of that particular wave-length, and are not evi
dences of separate identities. I can no more split that ray up into
five or six different rays, each having different properties, than I can
split up the element iron, for instance, into other elements, one pos
sessing the specific gravity of iron, another its magnetic properties,
a third its chemical properties, a fourth its conducting power for
heat, and so on. A ray of light of a definite refrangibility is one and
indivisible, just as an element is, and these different properties of the
ray are mere functions of that refrangibility, and inseparable from it.
Therefore when I tell you that a ray in the ultra-red pushes the in
strument with a force of one hundred, and a ray in the most luminous
part has a dynamic value of about half that, it must be understood
that the latter action is not due to heat-rays which accompany the
luminous rays, but that the action is one purely due to the wave
length and the refrangibility of the ray employed. You now under
stand why it is that I cannot give a definite answer to the question,
" Is it heat or is it light that produces these movements ? " There is
no physical difference between heat and light ; so, to avoid confusion,
I call the total bundle of rays which come from a candle or the sun,
radiation.

I found, by throwing the pure rays of the spectrum one after the
other upon this apparatus, that I could obtain a very definite answer
to my first question, " What are the actual rays which cause this
action ? "

The apparatus was fitted up in a room specially devoted to it, and
was protected on all sides, except where the rays of light had to pass,
with cotton-wool and large bottles of water. A heliostat reflected a
beam of sunlight in a constant direction, and it was received on an
appropriate arrangement of slit, lenses, prisms, etc., for projecting a
pure spectrum. Hesults were obtained in the months of July, August,
and September ; and they are given in the figure (Fig. 5) graphically
as a curve, the maximum being in the ultra-red and the minimum in
the ultra-violet. Taking the maximum at 100, the following are the
mechanical values of the different colors of the spectrum :

Ultra-red . . . : . ... . ... . .100

Extreme red . . . . ..... . 85

Red . . . . . . .73

Orange . . . . . . . . 66

Yellow . . . . . . . . . . .57

Green ........:.... 41

Blue . . . ... .... . . . 22

Indigo . . , . . -... . . , .- -. .- . 8

Violet . . . .. . . ... . . .6

Ultra-violet ..... . . . . . . 5

A comparison of these figures is a sufficient proof that the mechanical
action of radiation is as much a function of the luminous rays as it is
of the dark heat-rays.

THE MECHANICAL ACTION OF LIGHT. 265

The second question namely, " What influence has the color of
the surface on the action ? " has also been solved by this apparatus.

In order to obtain comparative results between disks of pith coat
ed with lampblack and with other substances, another torsion appa
ratus was constructed, in which six disks in vacuo could be exposed
one after the other to a standard light. One disk always being lamp-
blacked pith, the other disks could be changed so as to get compari
sons of action. Calling the action of radiation from a candle on the
lainpblacked disk 100, the following are the proportions obtained :

Lampblacked pith 100

Iodide of palladium 87.3

Precipitated silver 56

Amorphous phosphorus 40

Sulphate of baryta 37

Milk of sulphur 31

Red oxide of iron . 28

Scarlet iodide of mercury and copper 22

Lampblacked silver 18

.White pith 18

Carbonate of lead 13

Rock-salt . . . . * . 6.5

Glass 6.5

This table gives important information on many points : one more
especially the action of radiation on lampblacked pith is five and a
half times what it is on plain pith. A bar like those used in my first
experiment, having one-half black and one-half white, exposed to
a broad beam of radiation, will be pushed with five and a half times
more strength on the black than on the white half, and if freely sus
pended will set at an angle greater or less according to the intensity
of the radiation falling on it.

This suggests the employment of such a bar as a photometer, and
I have accordingly made an instrument on this principle ; its con
struction is shown in the diagram (Fig. 6). It consists of a flat bar
of pith, A, half black and half white, suspended horizontally in a
bulb by means of a long silk fibre. A reflecting mirror, J?, and small
magnet, (7, are fastened to the pith, and a controlling magnet, D, is
fastened outside so that it can slide up and down the tube, and thus
increase or diminish sensitiveness. The whole is completely exhaust
ed and then inclosed in a box lined with black velvet, with apertures
for the rays of light to pass in and out. A ray of light from a lamp,
F, reflected from the mirror, J3. to a graduated scale, #, shows the
movements of the pith-bar.

The instrument fitted up for a photometric experiment is in front
of me on the table. A beam from the electric light falls on the little
mirror, and is thence reflected back to the screen, where it forms a
spot of light, the displacement of which to the right or the left shows
the movement of the pith-bar. One end of the bar is blacked on

2 66

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

each side, the other end being left plain. I have two candles, E E^
each twelve inches off the pith-bar, one on each side of it. When I
remove the screens, H H^ the candle on one side will give the pith a

Fia. 6.

push in one direction, and the candle on the other side will give the
pith a push in the opposite direction, and as they are the same dis
tance off they will neutralize each other, and the spot of light will not
move. I ILOW take the two screens away : each candle is pushing the

THE MECHANICAL ACTION OF LIGHT. 267

pith equally in opposite directions, and the luminous index remains
at zero. When, however, I cut one candle off, the candle on the op
posite side exerts its full influence, and the index flies to one end of
the scale. I cut the other one off and obscure the first, and the spot
of light flies to the other side. I obscure them both, and the index
comes quickly to zero. I remove the screens simultaneously, and the
index does not move.

I will retain one candle 12 inches off, and put two candles on the
other side 17 inches off. On removing the screens you see the index
does not move from zero. Now the square of 12 is 144, and the
square of 17 is 289. Twice 144 is 288. The light of these candles,
therefore, is as 288 to 289. They therefore balance each other as
nearly as possible. Similarly I can balance a gaslight against a can
dle. I have a small gas-burner here, which I place 28 inches off on
one side, and you see it balances the candle 12 inches off. These ex
periments show how conveniently and accurately this instrument can
be used as a photometer. By balancing a standard candle on one side
against any source of light on the other, the value of the latter in
terms of a candle is readily shown ; thus in the last experiment the
standard candle 12 inches off is -balanced by a gas-flame 28 inches
off. The lights are, therefore, in the proportion of 12 2 to 28 2 , or as
1 to 5.4. The gas-burner is, therefore, equal to about five and a half
candles.

In practical work on photometry it is often required to ascertain
the value of gas. Gas is spoken of commercially as of so many can
dle-power. There is a certain " standard " candle which is supposed
to be made invariable by act of Parliament. I have worked a great
deal with these standard candles, and I find them to be among the
most variable things in the world. They never burn with the same
luminosity from one hour to the other, and no two candles are alike.
I can now, however, easily get over this difficulty. I place a "stand
ard " candle at such a distance from the apparatus that it gives a
deflection of 100 on the scale. If it is poorer than the standard, I
bring it nearer; if better, I put it farther off. Indeed, any candle
may be taken ; and if it be placed at such a distance from the appa
ratus that it will give a uniform deflection, say, of 100 divisions, the
standard can be reproduced at any subsequent time ; and the burning
of the candle may be tested during the photometric experiments by
taking the deflection it causes from time to time, and altering its dis
tance, if needed, to keep the deflection at 100 divisions. The gaslight
to be tested is placed at such a distance on the opposite side of the
pith-bar that it exactly balances the candle. Then, by squaring the
distances, I get the exact proportion between the gas and the candle.

Before this instrument can be used as a photometer or light-meas
urer, means must be taken to cut off from it all those rays coming
from the candle or gas which are not actually luminous. A reference

268 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

to the spectrum diagram (Fig. 5) will show that at each end of the
colored rays there is a large space inactive, as far as the eye is con
cerned, but active in respect to the production of motion strongly so
at the red end, less strong at the violet end. Before the instrument
can be used to measure luminosity, these rays must be cut off. We
buy gas for the light that it gives, not for the heat that it evolves on
burning, and it would therefore never do to measure the heat and pay
for it as light.

It has been found that a clear plate of alum, while letting all the
light through, is almost if not quite opaque to the heating rays below
the red. A solution of alum in water is almost as effective as a crys
tal of alum ; if, therefore, I place in front of the instrument glass
cells containing an aqueous solution of alum, the dark heat-rays are
filtered off.

But the ultra-violet rays still pass through, and to cut these off I
dissolve in the alum-solution a quantity of sulphate of quinine. This
body has the property of cutting off the ultra-violet rays from a point
between the lines G and If. A combination of alum and sulphate of
quinine, therefore, limits the action to those rays which affect the hu
man eye, and the instrument, such as you see it before you, becomes
a true photometer.

This instrument, when its sensitiveness is not deadened by the
powerful control magnet I am obliged to keep near it for these ex
periments, is wonderfully sensible to light. In my own laboratory, a
candle thirty-six feet off produces a decided movement, and the mo
tion of the index increases inversely with the square of the distance,
thus answering the third question, " Is the amount of action in direct
proportion to the amount of radiation ? "

The experimental observations and the numbers which are required
by the theoretical diminution of light with the square of the distance
are sufficiently close, as the following figures show :

Candle 6 feet off gives a deflection of 218

12 " " 54.0

18 " " 24.5

24 " " 13.0

10 " " 77.0

20 " " 19.0

30 " " 8.5

The effect of two candles side by side is practically double, and of
three candles three times that of one candle.

In the instrument just described, the candle acts on a pith-bar,
one end of which is blacked on each side. But suppose I black the
bar on alternate halves, and place a light near it sufficiently strong to
drive the bar half round. The light will now have presented to it
another black surface in the same position as the first, and the bar
will be again driven in the same direction half round. This action will

THE MECHANICAL ACTION OF LIGHT.

269

A

be again repeated, the differential action of the light on the black and
white surfaces keeps the bar moving, and the result will be rotation.

Here is such a pith-bar, blacked on alternate sides, and sus
pended in an exhausted glass bulb (Fig. 7). I project its image on
the screen, and the strong light which shines on it sets
it rotating with considerable velocity. Now it is slacken
ing speed, and now it has stopped altogether. The bar
is supported on a fibre of silk, which has twisted round
till the rotation is stopped by the accumulated torsion. I
put a water-screen between the bar and the electric light
to cut off some of the active rays, and the silk untwists,
turning the bar in the opposite direction. I now remove
the water, and the bar revolves rapidly as at first.

From suspending the pith
on a silk fibre to balancing it
on a point the transition is
slight ; the interfering action
of torsion is thereby removed,
and the instrument rotates
continuously under the influ
ence of radiation. Many of
these little pieces of appara
tus, to which I have given
the name of radiometers, are
on the table, revolving with
more or less speed. The dia
gram (Fig. 8) shows their
construction, which is very
simple. They are formed of
four arms of very fine glass,

I \ / supported in the centre by a

y >/ needle-point, and having at

the extremities thin disks of
pith lampblacked on one side,
the black surfaces all facing the same way. The needle stands in a
glass cup, and the arms and diftks are delicately balanced so as to re
volve with the slightest impetus.

Here are some rotating by the light of a candle.

rather an historical instrument, being the first one in which I saw ro
tation. It goes very slowly in comparison with the others, but it is
not bad for the first instrument of the sort that was ever made.

I will now, by means of a vertical lantern, throw on the screen the
projection of one of these instruments, so as to show the movement
rather better than you could see it on the table. The electric light
falling vertically downward on it, and much of the power being cut
off by water and alum screens, the rotation is slow. I bring a candle

FIG. 7.

FIG

2 7 o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

near and the speed increases. I now lift the radiometer up, and place
it full in the electric light, projecting its image direct on the screen,
and it goes so rapidly that if I had not cut out the four pieces of pith
of different shapes you would have been unable to follow the movement.

The speed with which a sensitive radiometer will revolve in the
sun is almost incredible ; and the electric light, such as I have it in
this lantern, cannot be far short of full sunshine. Here is the most
sensitive instrument I have yet made, and I project its image on the
screen, letting the full blaze of the electric light shine upon it. Noth
ing is seen but an undefined nebulous ring, which becomes at times
almost invisible. The number of revolutions per second cannot be
counted, but they must be several hundreds, for one candle has made
it spin round forty times a second.

I have called the instrument the radiometer because it will enable
me to measure the intensity of radiation falling on it by counting the
revolutions in a given time ; the law being that the rapidity of revo
lution is inversely as the square of the distance between the light and
the instrument.

When exposed to different numbers of candles at the same distance
off, the speed of revolution in a given time is in proportion to the
number of candles ; two candles giving twice the rapidity of one can
dle, and three, three times, etc.

The position of the light in the horizontal plane of the instrument
is of no consequence, provided the distance is not altered ; thus two
candles, one foot off, give the same number of revolutions per second,
whether they are side by side or opposite to each other. From this
it follows that if the radiometer is brought into a uniformly lighted
space it will continue to revolve.

It is easy to get rotation in a radiometer without having the sur
faces of the disks differently colored. Here is one having the pith-
disks blacked on both sides. I project its image on the screen, and
there is no movement. I bring a candle near it, and shade the light
from one side, when rapid rotation is produced, which is at once altered
in direction by moving the shade to the other side.

I have arranged here a radiometer so that it can be made to move
by a very faint light, and at the same* time its rotation is easily fol
lowed by all present. In this bulb is a large six-armed radiometer
carrying a mirror in its centre. The mirror is almost horizontal, but
not quite so, and therefore, when I throw a beam of electric light ver
tically downward on to the central mirror, the light is reflected off at
a slight angle, and, as the instrument rotates, its movement is shown
by the spot of light traveling round the ceiling in a circle. Here
again the fog helps us, for it gives us an imponderable beam of light
moving round the room like a solid body, and saving you the trouble
of looking up at the ceiling. I now set the radiometer moving round
by the light of a candle, and I want to show you that colored light

THE MECHANICAL ACTION OF LIGHT. 271

does not very much interfere with the movement. I place yellow
glass in front, and the movement is scarcely diminished at all. Very
deep-colored glass, you see, diminishes it a little more. Blue and
green glass make it go a little slower, but still do not diminish the
speed one-half. I now place a screen of water in front : the instru
ment moves with diminished velocity, rotating with about one-fourth
its original speed.

Taking the action produced by a candle-flame as .... 100
Yellow glass reduces it to 89

Red

Blue

Green

Water

Alum

71
56
56
26
15

I now move the candle a little distance off, so as to make the in
strument move slower, and bring a flask of boiling water close to it.
See what happens. The luminous index no longer moves steadily,
but in jerks. Each disk appears to come up to the boiling water with
difficulty, and to hurry past it. More and more sluggishly do they
move past, until now one has failed to get by, and the luminous beam,
after oscillating to and fro a few times, comes to rest. I now gradu
ally bring the candle near. The index shows no movement. Nearer
still. There is now a commencement of motion, as if the radiometer
were trying to push past the resistance offered by the hot water ; but
it is not until I have brought the candle to within a few inches of the
glass globe that rotation is recommenced. On these pith radiometers
the action of dark heat is to repel the black and white surfaces almost
equally, and this repulsion is so energetic as to overcome the rotation
caused by the candle, and to stop the instrument.

With a radiometer constructed of a good conductor of heat, such
as metal, the action of dark heat is different. Here is one made of
silvered copper, polished on one side and lampblacked on the other.
I have set it moving with a candle slightly the normal way. Here is
a glass shade heated so that it feels decidedly warm to the hand. I
cover the radiometer with it, and the rotation first stops, and then
recommences the reverse way. On removing the hot shade the
reverse movement ceases and normal rotation recommences.

If, however, I place a hot glass shade over a pith radiometer, the
arms at once revolve the normal way, as if I had exposed the instru
ment to light. The diametrically opposite behavior of a pith and a
metal instrument when exposed to the dark heat radiated from a hot
glass shade is very striking. The explanation of the action is not
easy, but it depends on the fact that the metal is one of the best con
ductors of heat, while pith is one of the worst.

One more experiment with this metallic radiometer,
strono-ly with a spirit-lamp, and the arms spin round rapidly. Now

2 7 2

THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

the whole bulb is hot, and I remove the lamp : see what happens.
The rotation quickly diminishes. Now it is at rest ; and now it is
spinning round just as fast the reverse way. I can produce this
reverse movement only with difficulty with a pith instrument. The
action is due to the metal being a good conductor of heat. As it
absorbs heat it moves one way ; as it radiates heat it moves the op
posite way.

At first I made these instruments of the very lightest material
possible, some of them not weighing more than half a grain ; and,
where extreme sensitiveness is required, lightness is essential. But
the force which carries them round is quite strong enough to move a
much greater weight. Thus the metallic instrument I have just ex
perimented with weighs over thirteen grains, and here is one still
heavier, made of four pieces of looking-glass blacked on the silvered
side, which are quickly sent round by the impact of this imponderable
agent, and flash the rays of light all round the room when the electric
lamp is turned on the instrument.

Before dismissing this instrument let me show one more experi
ment. I place the looking-glass and the metal radiometer side by
side, and, screening the light from them, they come almost to rest.
Their temperature is the same as that of the room. What will hap-

NULGNET

MORSE
INSTRUMENT

pen if I suddenly chill them ? I pour a few drops of ether on each of
the bulbs. Both instruments begin to revolve. But notice the differ
ence. While the movement in the case of the metal radiometer is
direct, that of the looking-glass instrument is reverse. And yet to a
candle they both rotate the same way, the black being repelled.

THE MECHANICAL ACTION OF LIGHT. 273

Now, having found that this force would carry round a compara
tively heavy weight, another useful application suggested itself. If
I can carry round heavy mirrors or plates of copper, I can carry
round a magnet. Here, then (Fig. 9), is an instrument carrying a
magnet, and outside is a smaller magnet, delicately balanced in a ver
tical position, having the south pole at the top and the north pole at
the bottom. As the inside magnet comes round, the outside magnet,
being delicately suspended on its centre, bows backward and forward,
and, making contact at the bottom, carries an electric current from a
battery to a Morse instrument. A ribbon of paper is drawn through
the " Morse " by clock-work, and at each contact at each revolution
of the radiometer a record is printed on the strip of paper by dots ;
close together if the radiometer revolves quickly, farther apart if it
goes slower.

Here the inner magnet is too strong to allow the radiometer to
start with a faint light without some initial impetus. Imagine the
instrument to be on the top of a mountain, away from everybody,
and I wish to start it in the morning. Outside the bulb are a few
coils of insulated copper wire, and by depressing the key for an in
stant I pass an electric current from the battery through them. The
interior magnet is immediately deflected from its north-south position,
and the impetus thus gained enables the light to keep up the rotation.
In a proper meteorological instrument I should have an astatic com
bination inside the bulb, so that a very faint light would be sufficient
to start it, but in this case I am obliged to set it going by an electric
current. I have placed a candle near the magnetic radiometer. I
now touch the key ; the instrument immediately responds ; the paper

FIG. 10.

unwinds from the Morse instrument, and on it you will see dots in
regular order. I put the candle eight inches off, and the dots come
wide apart. I place it five and three-quarters inches off, and two dots
come where one did before. I bring the candle four inches from the
instrument, and the dots become four times as numerous (Fig. 10),
thus recording automatically the intensity of the light falling on the

VOL. IX. 18

274 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

instrument, and proving that in this case also the radiometer obeys
the law of inverse squares.

This instrument, the principle of which I have illustrated to-night,
is not a mere toy or scientific curiosity, but it is capable of giving
much useful information in climatology. You are well aware that the
temperature, the rainfall, the atmospheric pressure, the direction and
force of the wind, are now carefully studied in most countries, in
order to elucidate their sanitary condition, their animal and vegetable
productions, and their agricultural capabilities. But one most im
portant element, the amount of light received at any given place, has
been hitherto but very crudely and approximately estimated, or rather
guessed at. Yet it cannot be denied that sunlight has its effect upon
life and health, vegetable, animal, and human, and that its relative
amount at any place is hence a point of no small moment. The diffi
culty is now overcome by such an instrument as this. The radiom
eter may be permanently placed on some tall building, or high moun
tain, and, by connecting it by telegraphic wires to a central observa
tory, an exact account can be kept of the proportion of sunlight
received in different latitudes, and at various heights above the sea-
level. Furthermore, our records of the comparative temperature of
different places have been hitherto deficient. The temperature of a
country depends partly on the amount of rays which it receives direct
from the sun, and partly on the atmospheric and oceanic currents,
warm or cold, which sweep over or near it. The thermometer does not
discriminate between these influences ; but the radiometer will enable
us now to distinguish how much of the annual temperature of a place
is due to the direct influence of the sun alone, and how much to the
other factors above referred to.

I now come to the last question which I stated at the beginning
of this lecture, " What is the amount of force exerted by radiation ? n
Well, I can calculate out the force in a certain way, from data sup
plied by this torsion apparatus (Fig. 4). Knowing the weight of the
beam, the power of the torsion fibre of glass, its time of oscillation,
and the size of the surface acted on, it is not difficult to calculate the
amount of force required to deflect the beam through a given angle ;
but I want to get a more direct measure of the force. I throw a ray
of light upon one of these instruments, and it gives a push ; surely it
is possible to measure the amount of this push in parts of a grain.
This I have succeeded in doing in the instrument behind me ; but be
fore showing the experiment I want to illustrate the principle upon
which it depends. Here is a very fine glass fibre suspended from an
horizontal bar, and I wish to show you the strength of it. The fibre
is only a few thousandths of an inch thick ; it is about three feet long,
and at the lower end is hanging a scale-pan, weighing 100 grains.
So I start with a pull of 100 grains on it. I now add little lead
weights, 50 grains each, till it breaks. It bears a pull of 750 grains,

THE MECHANICAL ACTION OF LIGHT. z 7s

but gives way when additional weight is added. You see, then, the
great strength of a fibre of glass, so fine as to be invisible to all who
are not close to it, to resist a tensile strain.

Now I will illustrate another equally important property of a glass
thread, viz., its power to resist torsion. Here is a a still finer glass
thread, stretched horizontally between two supports ; and in order to
show its position I have put little jockeys of paper on it. One end is
cemented firmly to a wooden block, and the other end is attached to
a little instrument called a counter a little machine for registering
the number of revolutions. I now turn this handle till the fibre
breaks, and the counter will tell me how many twists I have given
this fibre of glass. You see it breaks at twenty revolutions. This is
rather a thicker fibre than usual. I have had them bear more than
200 turns without breaking, and some that I have worked with are so
fine that if I hold one of them by the end it curls itself up and floats
about the room like a piece of spider s thread.

Having now illustrated these properties of glass fibres, I will try
to show a very delicate experiment. I want to ascertain the amount
of pressure which radiation exerts on a blackened surface. I will put
a ray of light on the pan of a balance, and give you its weight in
grains, for I think in this Institution and before this audience I may
be allowed a scientific use of the imagination, and may speak of
weighing that which is not affected by gravitation.

The principle of the instrument is that of W. Ritchie s torsion
balance, described by him in the " Philosophical Transactions" for
1830. The construction is somewhat complicated, but it can be made
out on reference to the diagram (Fig. 11). A light beam, A B, having
two square inches of pith, (7, at one end, is balanced on a very fine
fibre of glass, D D , stretched horizontally in a tube; one end of the
fibre being connected with a torsion handle, JE, passing through the
tube, and indicating angular movements on a graduated circle.
The beam is cemented to the torsion fibre, and the whole is inclosed
in glass, and connected with the mercury pump by a spiral tube, F,
and exhausted as perfectly as possible. G is a spiral spring, to keep
the fibre in a uniform state of tension. His a piece of cocoon silk.
I is a glass stopper, which is ground into the tube as perfectly as
possible, and then highly polished and lubricated with melted India-
rubber, which is the only substance I know that allows perfect lubri-
, cation and will still hold a vacuum. The pith, (7, represents the
scale-pan of the balance. The cross-beam A B, which carries it, is
cemented firmly to the thin glass fibre, Z>, and in the centre is a piece
of mirror, K. Now, the cross-beam A B and the fibre D being rigidly
connected together, any twist which I give to the torsion handle E
will throw the beam out of adjustment. If, on the other hand, I
place a weight on the piece of pith C, that end of the beam will fall
down, and I "shall have to turn the handle, E, round and round a cer-

276 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

tain number of times, until I have put sufficient torsion on the fibre D
to lift up the beam. Now, according to the law of torsion, the force
with which a perfectly elastic body like glass tends to untwist itself
is directly proportional to the number of degrees through which it
has been twisted ; therefore, knowing how many degrees of torsion I

THE MECHANICAL ACTION OF LIGHT. 277

must put on the fibre to lift up the ji-g- of a grain weight, I can tell
how many degrees of torsion are required to lift up any other weight ;
and conversely, putting an unknown weight or pressure on the pith,
I can find its equivalent in grains by seeing how much torsion it is
equal to. Thus, if y-J^ of a grain requires 10,000 of torsion, -^ of
a grain would require 20,000 ; and conversely, a weight which re
quired 5,000 torsion would weigh ^ a of a grain. Once knowing
the torsion equivalent of y-^- of a grain, the ratio of the known to
the unknown weights is given by the degrees of torsion.

Having thus explained the working of the torsion balance I will
proceed to the actual experiment. On the central mirror I throw a
ray from the electric light, and the beam reflected on a particular
spot of the ceiling will represent zero. The graduated circle 7of the
instrument also stands at zero, and the counter which I fasten on at
the end L stands at 0. The position of the spot of light reflected
from the little concave mirror being noted, the torsion balance enables
me to estimate the pressure or weight of a beam of light to a sur
prising degree of exactness. I lift up my little iron weight by means
of a magnet (for working in a vacuum I am restricted in the means
of manipulating), and drop it in the centre of the pith : it knocks the
scale-pan down, as if I had placed a pound weight upon an ordinary
balance, and the index-ray of light has flown far from the zero-point
on the ceiling. I now put torsion on the fibre to bring the beam again
into equilibrium. The index-ray is moving slowly back again. At
last it is at zero, and on looking at the circle and counter I see that I
have had to make 27 complete revolutions and 301, or 27x360 +
301 = ] 0,021, before the force of torsion would balance the T fg-
of a grain.

I now remove the weight from the pith-pan of my balance, and
liberate the glass thread from torsion by twisting it back again. Now
the spot of light on the ceiling is at zero, and the counter and index
are again at 0.

Having thus obtained the value of the ^ of a grain in torsion
degrees, I will get the same for the radiation from a candle. I place
a lighted candle exactly 6 inches from the blackened surface, and on
removing the screen the pith scale-pan falls down, and the index-ray
again flies across the ceiling. I now turn the torsion handle, and in
much less time than in the former case the ray is brought back to
zero. On looking at the counter I find it registers four revolutions,
and the index points to 188, making altogether 360 x 4 + 188 = 1628,
through which the torsion fibre has to be twisted to balance the light
of the candle.

It is an easy calculation to convert this into parts of a grain weight ;
10,021 torsion degrees representing 0.01 grain, 1628 torsion degrees
represent 0.001624 grain.

10,021 : 0.01 grain:: 1628 : 0.001624 grain.

278 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The radiation of a candle 6 inches oft , therefore, weighs or presses
the two square inches of blackened pith with a weight of 0.001624
grain. In my own laboratory, working with this torsion balance, I
found that a candle 6 inches off gave a pressure of 0.001772 grain.
The difference is only 0.000148 grain, and is fairly within the allow
able limits of a lecture experiment. But this balance is capable of
weighing to far greater accuracy than that. You have seen that a
torsion of 10,021 balanced the hundredth of a grain. If I give the
fibre 1 more twist the weight is overbalanced, as shown by the move
ment of the index-ray on the ceiling. Now 1 of torsion is about the
Io fto part of the whole torsion required by the ^-5- grain. It repre
sents, therefore, the T6 ^ 00 part of the T ^ T , or the millionth part cf a
grain.

Divide a grain-weight into a million parts, place one of them on
the pan of the balance, and the beam will be instantly depressed !

Weighed in this balance the mechanical force of a candle 12 inches
off was found to be 0.000444 grain; of a candle 6 inches off, 0.001772
grain. At half the distance the weight of radiation should be four
times, or 0.001776 grain; the difference between theory artd experi
ment being only four-millionths of a grain is a sufficient proof that
the indications of this instrument, like those of the apparatus previ
ously described, follow the law of inverse squares. An examination
of the differences between the separate observations and the mean
shows that my estimate of the sensitiveness of this balance is not ex
cessive, and that in practice it will safely indicate the millionth of a
grain.

I have only had one opportunity of getting an observation of the
weight of sunlight: it was taken on December 13th, but the sun was
so obscured by thin clouds and haze that it was only equal to 10.2
candles 6 inches off. Calculating from this datum, it is seen that the
pressure of sunshine is 2.3 tons per square mile.

But, however fair an equivalent ten candles may be for a London
sun in December, a midsummer sun in a cloudless sky has a very dif
ferent value. Authorities differ as to its exact equivalent, but I under
estimate it at 1,000 candles 12 inches off.

Let us see what pressure this will give: A candle 12 inches off,
acting on 2 square inches of surface, was found equal to 0.000444
grain; the sun, equaling 1,000 candles, therefore gives a pressure of
0.444000 grain ; that is equal to about 32 grains per square foot, to 2
cwts. per acre, 57 tons per square mile, or nearly 3,000,000,000 tons
on the exposed surface of the globe sufficient to knock the earth out
of its orbit if it came upon it suddenly.

It may be said that a force like this must alter our ordinary ideas
of gravitation ; but it must be remembered that we only know the
force of gravity as between bodies such as they actually exist, and we
do not know what this force would be if the temperatures of the gravi-

THE MECHANICAL ACTION OF LIGHT. 279

tating masses were to undergo a change. If the sun is gradually
cooling, possibly its attractive force is increasing, but the rate will be
so slow that it will probably not be detected by our present means
of research.

While showing this experiment I wish to have it distinctly under
stood that I do not attach the least importance to the actual numeri
cal results. I simply wish to show you the marvelous sensitiveness
of the apparatus with which I am accustomed to work. I may, indeed,
say that I know these rough estimates to be incorrect. It must be*
remembered that our earth is not a lampblacked body inclosed in a
glass case, nor is its shape such as to give the maximum of surface
with the minimum of weight. The solar forces which perpetually pour
on it are not simply absorbed and degraded into radiant heat, but arc
transformed into the various forms of motion we see around us, and
into the countless forms of vegetable, animal, and human activity.
The earth, it is true, is poised in vacuous space, but it is surrounded
by a cushion of air; and, knowing how strongly a little air stops the
movement of repulsion, it is easy to conceive that the sun s radiation
through this atmospheric layer may not produce any important amount
of repulsion. It is true the upper surface of our atmosphere must pre
sent a very cold front, and this might suffer repulsion by the sun ; but
I have said enough to show how utterly in the dark we are as to the
cosmical bearings of this action of radiation, and further speculation
would be but waste of time.

It may be of interest to compare these experimental results with a
calculation made in 1873, before any knowledge of these facts had
been made public.

Prof. Clerk Maxwell, in his " Electricity and Magnetism," vol. ii.,
p. 391, writes as follows : " The mean energy in one cubic foot of sun
light is about 0.0000000882 of a foot-pound, and the mean pressure on
a square foot is 0.0000000882 of a pound-weight. A flat body exposed
to sunlight would experience this pressure on its illuminated side only,
and would therefore be repelled from the side on which the light
falls."

Calculated out, this gives the pressure of sunlight equal to about
two and a half pounds per square mile. Between the two and a half
pounds deduced from calculation and the fifty-seven tons obtained
from experiment the difference is great ; but not greater than is often
the case between theory and experiment.

In conclusion, I beg to call especial attention to one not unimpor
tant lesson which may be gathered from this discovery. It will be at
once seen that the whole springs from the investigation of an anomaly.
Such a result is by no means singular. Anomalies may be regarded
as the finger-posts along the high-road of research, pointing to the
by-ways which lead to further discoveries. As scientific men are
well aware, our way of accounting for any given phenomenon is not

28o THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

always perfect. Some point is perhaps taken for granted, some pe
culiar circumstance is overlooked. Or else our explanation agrees
with the facts not perfectly, but merely in an approximate manner,
leaving a something still to be accounted for. Now, these residual
phenomena, these very anomalies, may become the guides to new and
important revelations.

In the course of my research anomalies have sprung up in every
direction. I have felt like a traveler navigating some mighty river
in an unexplored continent. I have seen to the right and the left
other channels opening out, all claiming investigation, and promising
rich rewards of discovery for the explorer who shall trace them to
their source. Time has not allowed me to undertake the whole of a
task so vast and so manifold. I have felt compelled to follow out, as
far as lay in my power, my original idea, passing over reluctantly the
collateral questions springing up on either hand. To these I must
now invite the attention of my fellow- workers in science. There is
ample room for many inquirers.

Nor must we forget that the more rigidly we scrutinize our re
ceived theories, our routine explanations and interpretations of Nature,
and the more frankly we admit their shortcomings, the greater will be
our ultimate reward. In the practical world fortunes have been real
ized from the careful examination of what has been ignorantly thrown
aside as refuse ; no less, in the sphere of science, are reputations to be
made by the patient investigation of anomalies. Advance Sheets of
Quarterly Journal of Science.

THE CAUSES OF THE COLD OF THE ICE PERIOD.

BY PKOF. J. S. NEWBEEEY,

OF COLUMBIA COLLEGE.

A FEW years ago the scientific world was startled by the asser
tion made by Charpentier and Agassiz, who had been study
ing the glacial phenomena of Switzerland that at no very remote
period, geologically speaking, the climate of the northern hemisphere
had been very much colder than at present ; and that the arctic con
ditions which now prevail in Greenland with perpetual snow-sheets,
and glaciers reaching the sea extended as far south as the middle of
the present temperate zone.

At first, seriously questioned by most, strenuously denied by some,
this theory was found to be sustained by such abundant and indis
putable evidence the inscriptions left by the glaciers themselves
that it was not long before it had secured a general acceptance from
.geologists. Since then there has been a vast amount of theorizing

CAUSES OF THE COLD OF THE ICE PERIOD. 281

and investigation, to determine if possible the causes of these remark
able changes of climate.

Up to the present time, however, no theory has been proposed
which has been sustained by really satisfying evidence, and there is
still much difference of opinion on the question among those who
know most about it.

As the subject is one of peculiar geological significance, and great
dramatic interest, I venture to bring forward some notes upon it, taken
from the geologist s standpoint, hoping that they may contribute in
some slight degree to the solution of the problem.

The theories which have been proposed to account for the cold of
the Ice period divide themselves into two groups, viz., the cosmical
and terrestrial ; or those which invoke extraneous or astronomical in
fluences, and those which look to changes in the earth itself, or on its
surface, for a sufficient cause or causes.

In the first category may be enumerated the theory of Prof. Croll,
that variations in the eccentricity of the earth s orbit have induced
great alternations of climate on portions of the earth s surface ; that of
Belt and Drayson, which supposes the known variability of the angle
of the pole with the ecliptic to have been at times sufficiently great
to have brought arctic conditions locally down into the temperate
zone ; also, the speculations that the heat evolved from the sun has
been variable in quantity, that the earth has at various times passed
through cold spaces in the universe, etc.

In the second category are the views first put forth by Lyell, ac
cording to which all the variations of climate recorded in geological
history have been induced by changes in the earth itself or on its
surface.

In this paper I shall consider only the latter theory, leaving the
discussion of the astronomical aspects of the subject to astronomers,
mathematicians, and physicists, who alone are competent to thor
oughly investigate them.

The explanation given by Lyell of the cold of the Ice period is in
conformity with his characteristic conservatism. It is well known
that the climatic conditions of all parts of the earth s surface are pro
foundly affected by their topographical features. This may be seen
at a glance by reference to any map on which the isothermal lines are
delineated. Continental surfaces are known to be productive of ex
tremes of temperature, while the climate of sea areas is comparatively
equable ; and the general character of the climate of land and water
surfaces is further and locally affected by the configuration and alti
tude of the land, by the breadth and depth of the oceanic basins, and
especially by the ocean-currents. The sea forms the great evaporating
surface, and the source from which is derived the enormous quantity
of water transported by the system of atmospheric circulation. The
local climate of continents is also largely influenced by the winds

282 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

which blow over them ; for these determine, to a considerable degree,
the temperature and the annual rainfall ; hence the volume and exca
vating power of rivers, etc. The higher portions of continents, as
mountain-chains and plateaux, are colder than the lowlands, and hence
become condensers of moisture places where snow accumulates and
glaciers are formed.

A striking illustration of the influence of topography on climate is
shown by the high, mountains of the tropics, where perpetual snow
and glaciers are coexistent with extreme tropical conditions, not only
on the same parallel, but within a narrow area. It is evident, then,
that topographical changes such as could be easily conceived would
readily and perfectly accomplish all the alternations of climate of
which we have any evidence in geological history. Kecognizing the
potency of topographical causes, Lyell sought for, and thought he
had found, a sufficient explanation of the contrast between the cli
mates of the Ice period and the present, in changes in the physical
geography of the northern hemisphere; assuming and believing that
the Glacial period was marked and caused by great elevation and
breadth of land-surface about the pole, and, as a corollary and conse
quence of this proposition, a depression of land and a broadening of
oceanic surfaces in the temperate and tropical zones.

This theory affords so simple an explanation of the problem of the
Ice period, that it at first strongly commends itself to those who are
most cautious and logical in their modes of thought and investiga
tion. Modern science is eminently conservative, and one of the first
lessons learned by the investigator of this age is, to exhaust all known
causes of phenomena before appealing to the unknown. Still, however
plausible this view may be, it must be sustained by solid and substan
tial proof before it deserves to be regarded as anything but a theory,
and before it can be accepted as a rule of faith and practice among
geologists. Unfortunately, such proof is not cnly yet wanting, but
there are many facts which, in the light of our present knowledge,
seem to indicate that it will never be obtained. The theory of Lyell
has, however, been adopted by Prof. Dana, in the last edition of his
"Manual," where he says (p. 541), "The occurrence of an Ice period
was probably dependent mainly, as suggested by Lyell, on the exten
sion and elevation of the land over the higher latitudes." Prof. Dana
has further elaborated and applied the Lyellian hypothesis by sug
gesting that in the Glacial period barriers of land connected the
continents of the two hemispheres, and excluded the tropical cur
rents from the polar seas, in this way cutting off the most powerful
equalizing influences, and inducing an exaggeration of the heat of
the tropics and the cold of the polar regions. He also claims that
high and broad land-surfaces in the circumpolar areas formed great
condensers and refrigerators, upon which the moisture, freely and
rapidly evaporated from the seething caldron of the circumscribed

CAUSES OF THE COLD OF THE ICE PERIOD. 283

tropical seas, was precipitated to form almost universal snow-fields
and glaciers ; certainly very favorable conditions for the production
of many of the phenomena which characterized the Glacial period.
It must be remembered, however, that this theory presupposes bar
riers established not only across the North Atlantic and Pacific
Oceans, but in the southern hemisphere as well for this also had its
Ice period barriers connecting the widely-separated promontories
of Cape Horn, Cape of Good Hope, and the islands of the East Indian
Archipelago; also that, simultaneously with the existence of such bar
riers, the tropical lands were depressed, and the sea spread its sedi
ments over much of what is in the present age terra firma.

In reviewing the theory proposed by Lyell and Dana, I have been
impressed with the conviction that if the physical geography of the
northern and southern hemispheres had been either alternately or
simultaneously such as this theory requires, we should find some evi
dence of it, apart from the inscriptions made by glaciers nearer the
equator than any now exist. In the search for such evidence, however,
I have not only failed to find it, but have, as it seems to me, found
other things which go far to disprove the theory.

In order to fully state the case, it will be necessary to review
several chapters in geological history, and compare the preceding and
also the succeeding age with that in which the climate of Greenland
came as far south as New York.

The results of such comparisons may be given as follows :

I. It is known to most students of geology that, during the Tertiary
age, the climate of all the arctic regions was warm-temperate. A
luxuriant forest then covered Greenland, and all the northern portion
of this continent ; such a forest as could only flourish in a climate as
mild as that of our Middle and Southern States. 1

According to the Lyellian hypothesis this should have been a period
of great depression of arctic, and elevation of tropical lands ; but we
have proof that such was not the case. On the contrary, the land
area at the north was broader then than now, while in the tropics it
was narrower. f

It can be shown, too, that land-connection then existed in northern
latitudes between Europe and America, and also between America
and Asia. The Atlantic bridge stretched from Greenland to Iceland,
thence to the Hebrides and Scotland, which was then part of the

1 It has been suggested that the warmth of the Tertiary climate was simply the effect
of the residual heat of a globe cooling from incandescence, but many facts disprove this.
For example, the fossil plants found in our Lower Cretaceous rocks in Central North
America indicate a temperate climate in latitude 35 to 40 in the Cretaceous age. The
coal-flora, too, and the beds of coal, indicate a moist, equable, and warm but not hot
climate in the Carboniferous age, millions of years before the Tertiary, and 3,000 miles
farther south than localities where magnolias, tulip-trees, and deciduous cypresses, grew
in the latter age. Some learned and cautious geologists even assert that there have been
several Ice periods, one as far back as the Devonian.

284 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

European Continent. The Pacific bridge was where Behring s Straits
now are.

These conclusions are deducible from the following facts :

1. Our American flora, which began in the Cretaceous, spread in
the Tertiary age to Europe on the one hand, and to China and Japan
on the other; and this could only have taken place when the con
tinents were connected. The characteristic plants of this flora have
been found fossilized on the Upper Missouri, on Mackenzie s River,
Disco Island, Greenland, Iceland, the island of Mull, and on the con
tinent of Europe as far south as Italy. No collection has been made
of Tertiary plants in Japan and China, but the living flora of these
countries contains a large number of species identical with those found,
either living or fossil, in North America. The remarkable similarity
between the flora of Northeastern Asia and that of America, so clearly
shown by Prof. Gray, is such as to demonstrate a community of origin,
and that its place of origin was America may be fairly inferred from
the character of the present American flora and from the facts that a
large part of the most characteristic genera are found here in the
Cretaceous rocks, and many of the living species in our fresh-water
Tertiaries.

2. Marine Tertiary deposits are almost completely absent from
the arctic lands, while they now skirt or cover most tropical continents
and islands.

Rocks containing marine Tertiary fossils are conclusive evidence
of the submergence in Tertiary times of the land in the localities where
they occur ; and they would not fail to exist over great areas in the
arctic, had the land there been more depressed in the Tertiary age
than now ; since most of the country which borders the Arctic Sea,
both in America and Asia, lies but little above the sea-level.

The Tertiary strata, that have yielded pore than three hundred
species of land-plants at the far north* are generally fresh-water and
marsh deposits, containing fresh-water shells and beds of lignite simi
lar to those of the central portions of our own continent. In contrast
to the state of things thus indicated, the marine Tertiaries, which
form the margins of our South Atlantic and Gulf States, the West
Indies, the Isthmus, and the northern part of South America, are au
tomatic records of high sea or low land level, in the tropical regions
during Tertiary times.

These facts seem to prove that in the period when a warm-tem
perate climate prevailed over all the arctic regions, the land was
broader and higher than now at the north, lower and narrower at the
south; and that barriers did then exist which excluded the tropical
ocean-currents from the arctic sea.

II. Just what the topography of the arctic regions was during
the Glacial period, we have as yet no very full and accurate informa
tion. It has been generally supposed that at least certain areas in the

CAUSES OF THE COLD OF THE ICE PERIOD. 285

north were then high, but this cannot be said to be proved. That
the arctic lands have been at some time raised higher than now, is
shown by the fiords of the northern coasts, which, as first pointed out
by Dana, must have been excavated by subaerial erosion ; but a large
part of that erosion may have been effected in the Tertiary age, and
perhaps it was chiefly accomplished then.

When a dense forest clothed the arctic lands, and spread over
continuous land-surfaces to Europe and Asia, these now half-sub
merged fiords were valleys traversed by flowing streams; for the
abundant Tertiary vegetation of the far north proves the country to
have been well watered. That these fiords were filled with glaciers
during the Ice period is certain, as the bottoms and sides of many
of them are glaciated, but this would happen again with a depression
of temperature, and without a depression of sea-level. The fact that
the glaciated surface of the bottoms of fiords in Sweden and America
passes under the sea, and reaches as far as observation can be carried,
is not the proof of elevation it has been claimed to be, for the glaciers
that now reach the sea must score their beds to the depth of several
hundred feet, before their extremities are lifted up by the one-tenth
greater gravity of water, and are floated off as icebergs. 1

Prof. J. W. Dawson holds the view that the Glacial period was
one of depression at the north, as he finds marine shells in the bowlder
clay of the St. Lawrence Valley ; and he attributes much of the gla-
ciation of Eastern North America to icebergs dragged over the sub
merged land.

Croll says ("Climate and Time," p. 391) :

" The greater elevation of the land (in the Ice period) is simply assumed as
an hypothesis to account for the cold. The facts of geology, however, are fast
establishing the opposite conclusion, viz., that when the country was covered
with ice, the land stood in relation to the sea at a lower level than at present,
and that the continental periods or times, when the land stood in relation to the
sea at a higher level than now, were the warm inter-glacial periods, when the
country was free of snow and ice, and a mild and equable condition of climate
prevailed. This is the conclusion toward which we are being led by the more
recent revelations of surface-geology, and also by certain facts connected with
the geographical distribution of plants and animals during the Glacial epoch." .

According to the investigations of Bohtlingk and Kjerulf, Scan
dinavia was 600 feet lower during the Glacial period than now.
Erdmann, on the contrary, supposes that Sweden was higher during
the Glacial epoch than at the present day, from the fact that polished

1 Some of the huge tabular icebergs, which have been observed off the Antarctic
Continent, projected more than 500 feet above the surface of the ocean ; and as for
every foot above water there must have been 8.7 feet submerged, the whole thickness
of the ice-sheet, from which these bergs were detached, must have been over 6,000 feet,
and such a glacier must grind the sea-bottom to a depth of over 4,000 feet. (See Croll,
" Climate and Time," p. 385.)

286 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

rock-surfaces extend beneath the sea ; but this, as we have seen,
proves no such thing.

Dana bases his statement that the northern portion of our conti
nent was highest in the Ice period on the system of deep, now-buried
channels, by which its surface was once furrowed, and upon the fiords
which fringe the northern coast ; but, as elsewhere stated, we have
no proof that all, or nearly all, this erosion was not effected previous
to the Glacial epoch. Reviewing all the facts that have been cited,
we can at least say that the indications of elevation are not nearly so
well marked in the Quaternary as in the Tertiary; and the evidence of
such elevation as would shut out the tropical currents from the Arctic
Sea in the Quaternary age is wholly wanting.

In the Champlain epoch the northern land was greatly depressed,
as we learn from the fact that the clays containing marine shells are
found on the present land at* a constantly-increasing elevation as we
go toward the north. About New York the Champlain clays reach
from 50 to 100 feet above the ocean-level ; on Lake Champlain they
are 400 feet, at Montreal nearly 500 feet, at Labrador 800, in Bar
row s Straits 1,000, and at the extreme point reached by the Polaris
Expedition, on the coast of Greenland, 1,800 feet above the sea
(Bessel).

On the European coast of the Atlantic we nave proof of an eleva
tion of the land during the Tertiary, and a subsidence in the Quater
nary, similar to those described above. Hence we may infer that in
the Champlain epoch the topography of the arctic regions was just
that which would be favorable for the transfer by ocean-currents of
the heat of the tropics to the arctic, and a prevalence over the arctic
regions of a warm climate. But it must be said that all the shells
found in the Champlain clays, from Lake Champlain to Greenland,
are of a decided boreal character, which indicates that during the en
tire deposition of that formation a climate scarcely wanner than that
of Greenland prevailed from New England northward.

If it is true that the Glacial epoch was one of elevation at the
north an elevation of the land much greater than the present the
change to the depressed condition of the Champlain epoch, when the
sea stood from 1,500 to 1,800 feet higher on the coast of Greenland
than it now does, must have been comparatively sudden ; and if, as
has been asserted, the depression of the Champlain epoch was com
mon to the whole northern hemisphere, it could have been effected
only by a great change in the figure of the earth, or by a flow of the
ocean-waters into the polar regions, such as has been suggested by
Adhemar and Croll. These writers hold the view that the effect of
the extreme cold of the Glacial period was to form an ice-cap some
miles in thickness over the arctic regions, and that this ice-cap moved
the centre of gravity of the earth toward the pole, so that the oceanic
waters flowed into this hemisphere and thus elevated the sea-level.

CAUSES OF THE COLD OF THE ICE PERIOD. 287

One result of the formation of an ice-cap over the polar regions
alternately in one and the other hemisphere might very well be, as
claimed by Croll and admitted by Sir William Thomson, such great
ebbs and flows of the ocean-waters as we find recorded in the Cham-
plain clays, and the present depressed sea-level; but some more con
clusive evidence of an ice-cap will be asked by cautious reasoners than
these alternations of level: such evidence, for example, as universal
glaciation over all of North America of 40 north latitude. No
such evidence has as yet been adduced ; but, on the contrary, ob
servers report an absence of ice-marks in the interior of the continent
northwest of the Great Lakes. This we might take to be proof that
the glaciers of the Ice period were limited to the highlands compar
atively near the ocean, the source of evaporation, and that the inte
rior was so dry then and now that no glaciers could be formed there.
This is, however, a subject which requires further investigation.
Whatever be its cause, the uniformity and magnitude of the change
of sea-level from the Tertiary emergence to the Champlain submer
gence, and then to the present, render it one of the most remarkable
phenomena recorded in geological history, and one that with careful
study will probably throw much light upon the great dynamical in
fluences that have produced changes on the earth s surface.

III. Either simultaneously or alternately with the extremes of
warmth and cold, which we find recorded in the northern, warm and
cold periods prevailed in the southern hemisphere. The evidences of
a Glacial period in South America are as conclusive as on our own
continent ; but it is difficult to conceive how barriers could, at that
time, have been thrown across the great open oceans the South At
lantic and South Pacific in such a way as to confine the tropical cur
rents to the central portions of these oceans.

We are, perhaps, not justified in saying that such barriers never
did exist, but it will be conceded that the difficulties which oppose
their erection there are much greater than in the northern hemisphere ;
and the hypothesis which supposes their existence in the Glacial pe
riod of the southern hemisphere is so entirely unsupported by facts,
that we are compelled to regard it as mere conjecture.

In any discussion of the phenomena and causes of the Ice period
we are, up to the present time, somewhat limited and embarrassed for
want of a wider range of observation. The facts are not yet all in.
Nearly all the detailed and careful observations made on the glacial
phenomena of the northern hemisphere have been limited to the east
ern half of North America and the western part of the European
Continent. Here the traces left by the glaciers are really stupendous
in their magnitude and extent ; and we have demonstrative evidence
that, during the Ice period, the glaciers and snow-fields of Greenland
stretched continuously down along the Atlantic coast of North Amer
ica to and below New York, and that the highlands of New England

288 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

and Eastern Canada were completely covered, and probably deeply
buried, in sheets of ice and snow. In the British Islands and Norway
the inscriptions made by ancient glaciers are scarcely less broad and
profound, and it is even conjectured that the bed of the shallow North
Sea is itself glaciated throughout. These evidences of vast accumu
lations of ice and snow on the borders of the Atlantic have led some
theorists to suppose that the Ice period was attended, if not in part
caused, by a far more abundant evaporation from the surface of the
Atlantic than takes place at present ; and it has even been conjectured
that submarine volcanoes in the tropics might have loaded the atmos
phere with an unusual amount of moisture. This speculation seems
to me, however, both improbable and superfluous ; improbable, be
cause no traces of any such cataclysm have been discovered, and it is
more than doubtful whether the generation of steam in the tropics,
however large the quantity, would produce glaciation of the polar
regions. The ascent of steam and heated air loaded with vapor to
the altitude of refrigeration, would, as it seems to me, result in the
rapid radiation of the heat into space, and the local precipitation of
unusual quantities of rain ; and the effect of such a catastrophe would
be slowly propagated and feebly felt in the arctic and antarctic re
gions. The hypothesis is superfluous, because all we want, to restore
the conditions recorded in the glaciated area, is simply a depression
of temperature ; by this the climate of Greenland, with all the attend
ing phenomena, would be brought down on both sides of the Atlan
tic to the lowest point where the average annual temperature of
Greenland prevailed.

This is, I think, proved by the condition of Greenland itself; re
mote as it is from evaporating surfaces of warm water, the pre
cipitation of moisture upon that continent is, however, sufficient to
cover it deeply under sheets of snow and ice ; the whole interior be
ing occupied by a continental glacier ; and it is easy to see that, with
a depression of the average annual temperature 10, the highlands of
Labrador would be brought into the same condition. With a still
further depression the elevated portions of New England, the Adi-
rondacks, and the highlands north of the lakes, would be completely
encased in snow and ice. If the flow of the St. Lawrence were ar
rested, and the annual precipitation of the region drained by it were
congealed, and retained from year to year, glaciers would soon form,
and creep down from the highlands into the valleys, until the basins
of the great lakes and the troughs of the Hudson and St. Lawrence
would be completely filled with ice. On the eastern side of the At
lantic this state of things would be still more rapidly reached, inas
much as, from the effect of the Gulf Stream, the coast climate is con
siderably more moist.

So far, then, as the region bordering the North Atlantic is con
cerned, a simple depression of temperature from any cause whatever,

CAUSES OF THE COLD OF THE ICE PERIOD. 289

terrestrial or cosmical, would produce all the phenomena of the Ice
period.

Before we can certainly determine, however, what the nature of
the cause producing the cold of the Ice period was, we must know
more accurately where and how the cause operated. To accomplish
this, observations must.be made over all those portions of the northern
and southern hemispheres where the traces of former glaciers are
visible.

In a general way we know that there was a cold period throughout
the northern hemisphere, as glacial phenomena are reported from Si
beria and Northwestern America, somewhat similar to those which
we find on the Atlantic coast. In regard to Siberia very much re
mains to be learned. Nearly the whole of the northern portion of
this great area is flat, and is deeply covered with Quaternary depos
its ; and it has been conjectured that in the Ice period the shallow sea
off the Siberian coast was solidly frozen throughout a great portion
of its breadth, and thus formed an ice-dam, behind which the drain
age of the northern slope accumulated alternately as sheets of ice
and bodies of fresh water.

The northern portion of the interior of our own continent is said to
be without distinct marks of glacial action. Should this statement be
confirmed by further observation, it would not, however, be a formida
ble argument against a general Glacial period; for intense cold would
leave no permanent record there, unless there was sufficient precipita
tion of moisture to form glaciers. As this region is now very dry and
sterile, it was perhaps so through the Ice period, and snow at no time
fell there in sufficient quantity to form glaciers. On the mountains of
British America and Alaska, of Oregon and California, there are
abundant evidences of glaciers far more numerous and extensive than
any now existing ; and these furnish demonstrative evidence that this
region shared in the effects of a distinct Ice period. The slopes of the
Cascade Mountains in Oregon are everywhere glaciated, and perhaps
no more impressive record of the Ice period exists than that formed
by the planed and furrowed surfaces, the roches moutonnees, etc., by
which all the higher portions of the belt, twenty to thirty miles in
width, are marked. No ice-sheet moved in that region from the north,
as there was no district of northern highlands where continental gla
ciers could be generated; but the glaciers radiated east and west
from various centres along the crests of the chain, and descended at
least 2,500 feet below the present snow line. This I determined by
actual barometric observation in many places, and I nowhere found
the lower limit of glacial action, as the planed and furrowed surfaces
passed beneath the alluvium of the lower valleys.

Whether there was a depression of the Western coast during the
Champlain epoch, corresponding to that recorded along the shores of
the Atlantic, we are as yet unable to say, as careful observations on

VOL. IX. 19

290 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

this interesting subject are wanting ; and these are not easily made
on this iron-bound and earthquake-shaken coast, where there has been
so little low and level land upon which Charaplain clays could be
deposited.

That this portion of the continent like the Eastern side has been
higher than now, we learn from the deeply-excavated channels of
the Golden Gate, the straits of Carquines, the mouth of the Colum
bia, the Canal De Haro, etc. But this erosion was produced in part
if not altogether in Tertiary times. At Shoalwater Bay and about
Steilacoom, there are raised beaches, apparently of ancient date, but
farther south the changes of level have been so frequent and local
that nothing like system has been educed from a comparison of the
old shore-lines.

Taken as a whole, the glacial inscriptions of the West coast, as
studied by King and Le Conte in California, and myself in Oregon,
prove an Ice period as distinctly as do the glacial marks of the At
lantic coast and the Mississippi Valley ; but the peculiar topography
of the Western country has made the record a somewhat different one.

From the foregoing facts it seems to me that we are justified in
concluding :

1. That however simple and plausible the Lyellian hypothesis may
be, or however ingenious the extension or application of it suggested
by Dana, it is not sustained by any proof, and the testimony of the
rocks seems to be decidedly against it.

2. Though much may yet be learned from a more extended and
careful study of the glacial phenomena of all parts of both hemispheres,
the facts already gathered seem to be incompatible with any theory
yet advanced which makes the Ice period simply a series of telluric
phenomena, and so far strengthens the arguments of those who look
to extraneous and cosmical causes for the origin of these phenomena.

A FITTING RECOGNITION OF AMERICAN SCIENCE.

PRESENTATION OF THE RUMFORD MEDAL BY THE AMERICAN ACADEMY OF
SCIENCE TO DR. DRAPER. FROM THE PROCEEDINGS OF THE ACADEMY.

AT the six hundred and eighty-ninth meeting of this body, held
March 8, 1876, the chairman of the Rumford Committee intro
duced the special business of the evening, and handed to the Presi
dent, Hon. Charles Francis Adams, the Rumford medals (in gold and
silver), on each of which had been engraved the following inscription :
" Awarded by the American Academy of Arts and Sciences to John
W. Draper, for his researches in radiant energy, May 25, 1875."
In presenting the medals the President said:

A FITTING RECOGNITION OF AMERICAN SCIENCE. 291

GENTLEMEN OF THE ACADEMY : The foundation of this Society,
you all know, dates back but four years less than a century. It fol
lowed close upon the adoption of the form of government of the State
itself. Further than this privilege of a corporation, I am not aware
that the State has since bestowed any aid on it whatever. During the
long period that has intervened, the individual members have steadily
and honestly contributed their labors and their money to the advance
ment of science and of the arts, the evidence of which is to be found
as well in the collections of the library as in the long series of their
published transactions. We have not been so lucky as to earn the
favor of the generous and wealthy at all in the proportion given to
some other institutions of the same general character. In point of
fact, we have to ascribe our success more to our own energies than to
the assistance of patrons. This is no bad sign for the future. The
Academy was never in more healthy and vigorous condition than at this
moment. The meetings are constantly attended by members who ap
pear to give or to receive with interest the many valuable contribu
tions to knowledge which ultimately take their place in the formidable
volumes open to the inspection of the world.

Yet it is not to be understood from what I have said that the insti
tution has been altogether without liberal assistance from several
sources. The most remarkable instance of a benefaction was perhaps
the earliest, that of Benjamin Thompson, better known under the name
of Count Rumford, who, eighty years ago, presented to the Academy
the sum of five thousand dollars, to be devoted to the stimulation of
the study of the various phenomena connected with light and heat, by
the presentation of medals of value as honorary rewards to successful
research. It is to the credit of the Academy, in these degenerate days,
to find that its administration of this property has fully justified the
confidence of the donor, the original sum having increased more than
fourfold over and above the cost of the medals which have from time
to time been awarded to successful investigation of the great subjects
proposed for study and examination.

It now becomes my agreeable duty to announce the fact that, after
a careful review of the meritorious service of Prof. Draper in this
great field of inquiry, the committee having the subject in their
charge have, for reasons given by them, recommended through their
chairman, that the medals prescribed in the deed of trust should be
presented to. him as having fully deserved them. It falls to my lot
only to recapitulate in brief some of these reasons.

In 1840 Dr. Draper independently discovered the peculiar phe
nomena commonly known as Moser s images, which are formed when
a medal or coin is placed upon a polished surface of glass or metal.
These images remain, as it were, latent, until a vapor is allowed to
condense upon the surface, when the image is developed and becomes
visible.

292 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

At a later period he devised the method of measuring the inten
sity of the chemical action of light, afterward perfected and employed
by Bunsen and Roscoe in their elaborate investigations. This method
consists in exposing to the source of light a mixture of equal volumes
of chlorine and hydrogen gases. Combination takes place more or
less rapidly, and the intensity of the chemical action of the light is
measured by the diminution in volume. No other known method
compares with this in accuracy, and most valuable results have been
obtained by its use.

In an elaborate investigation, published in 1847, Dr. Draper estab
lished experimentally the following important facts :

1. All solid substances, and probably liquids, become incandescent
at the same temperature.

2. The thermometric point at which substances become red-hot is
about 977 Fahr.

3. The spectrum of an incandescent solid is continuous ; it contains
neither bright nor dark fixed lines.

4. From common temperatures nearly up to 977 Fahr., the rays
emitted by a solid are invisible. At that temperature they are red,
and, the heat of the incandescing body being made continuously to
increase, other rays are added, increasing in refrangibility as the tem
perature rises.

5. While the addition of rays so much the more refrangible as the
temperature is higher is taking place, there is an increase in the in
tensity of those already existing. Thirteen years afterward Kirch -
hoff published his celebrated memoir on the relations between the
coefficients of emission and absorption of bodies for light and heat, in
which he established mathematically the same facts, and announced
them as new.

6. Dr. Draper claims, and we believe with justice, to have been the
first to apply the daguerreotype process to taking portraits.

7. Dr. Draper applied ruled glasses and specula to produce spectra
for the study of the chemical action of light. The employment of
ruled metallic specula for this purpose enabled him to avoid the
absorbent action of glass and other transparent media, as well as to
establish the points of maximum and minimum intensity with reference
to portions of the spectrum defined by their wave-lengths. He ob
tained also the advantage of employing a normal spectrum in place of
one which is abnormally condensed at one end and expanded at the
other.

8. We owe to him valuable and original researches on the nature
of the rays absorbed in the growth of plants in sunlight. These
researches prove that the maximum action is produced by the yel
low rays, and they have been fully confirmed by more recent investi
gations.

9. We owe to him, further, an elaborate discussion of the chemical

A FITTING RECOGNITION OF AMERICAN SCIENCE. 293

action of light, supported in a great measure by his own experiments,
and proving conclusively, and, as we believe, for the first time, that
rays of all wave-lengths are capable of producing chemical changes,
and that too little account has hitherto been taken of the nature of the
substance in which the decomposition is produced.

10. Finally, Dr. Draper has recently published researches on the
distribution of heat in the spectrum, which are of the highest interest,
and which have largely contributed to the advancement of our knowl
edge of the subject of- radiant energy.

And now, in the absence of Dr. Draper, unable at this inclement
season to execute a fatiguing journey, it gives me pleasure to recog
nize you, Mr. Quincy, as his worthy and competent representative.

I pray you, in receiving these two medals on his behalf, in accord
ance with the terms of. the original trust, to assure him, on the part
of the Academy, of the high satisfaction taken by all its Fellows in
doing honor to those who, like him, take a prominent rank in the ad
vance of science throughout the world. *

Mr. Quincy, on receiving the medals, said :

MB. PRESIDENT : In the name and on the behalf of Dr. Draper I
have the honor to receive the Rumford medals in gold and silver,
which the Academy has been pleased to award to him, and I will
have them safely conveyed to him to-morrow, together with the assur
ances of the satisfaction of the Academy in this action which you wish
me to communicate to him. In common with yourself, sir, and all the
Fellows present, I regret that that eminent person is unable to attend
this meeting and receive the medals himself. And, personally, I re
gret the absence of Dr. Wolcott Gibbs, who had promised to perform
this grateful service for his friend, and who would have been able to
make a more suitable reply to the able discourse with which you have
accompanied the presentation of the medals, and to have done more
justice to the claims of Dr. Draper to this distinction than I can pre
tend to do. Dr. Gibbs having also been unavoidably prevented from
being present this evening, I have now the honor to read a communi
cation from Dr. Draper to the Academy, in acknowledgment of this
testimony to his services to science.

Mr. Quincy then read the following letter :

To THE AMERICAN ACADEMY OF ARTS AND SCIENCES-: Your favorable ap
preciation of my researches on radiations, expressed to-day by the award of
the Rumford medals, the highest testimonial of approbation that American sci
ence has to bestow on those who have devoted themselves to the enlargement
of knowledge, is to me a most acceptable return for the attention I have given
to that subject through a period of more than forty years, and I deeply regret
that through ill-health I am unable to receive it in person.

Sir David Brewster, to whom science is under so many obligations for the
discoveries he made, once said to me that the solar-spectrum is a world in itself,
and that the study of it will never be completed. His remark is perfectly just.

But the spectrum is only a single manifestation of that infinite ether which

294 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

makes known to us the presence of the universe, and in which whatever exists
if I may be permitted to say so lives and moves and has its being.

What object, then, can be offered to us more worthy of contemplation than
the attributes of this intermedium between ourselves and the outer world?

Its existence, the modes of motion through it, its transverse vibrations, their
creation of the ideas of light and colors in the mind, the interferences of its
waves, polarization, the conception of radiations and their physical and chemi
cal effects these have occupied the thoughts of men of the highest order. The
observational powers of science have been greatly extended through the conse
quent invention of those grand instruments, the telescope, the microscope, the
spectrometer. Through these we have obtained more majestic views of the
nature of the universe. Through these we are able to contemplate the structure
and genesis of other systems of worlds, and are gathering information as to the
chemical constitution and history of the stars.

In this noble advancement of science you, through some of your members,
have taken no inconspicuous part. It adds impressively to the honor you have
this day conferred on me, that your action is the deliberate determination of
competent, severe, impartial judges. I cannot adequately express my feelings
of gratitude in such a presence, publicly pronouncing its approval on what I
have done.

I am, gentlemen, very truly yours, JOHN W. DRAPER.

BLASIUS S THEOEY OF STOEMS. 1

BY PBOF. VICTOE L. CONE AD, M. A.

IPEOPOSE to give some account of a new theory of storms put
forth by Prof. Blasius, of Philadelphia, formerly Professor of Nat
ural Sciences in the Lyceum of Hanover, Germany. His attention
was first drawn to the subject of storms in the year 1851. Having
witnessed the destructive effects of a tornado at West Cambridge,
Massachusetts, he made a careful survey of its entire track. The
facts discovered about the middle of its course, where the most dam
age had been caused, favored the rotary theory of Eedfield ; those
near the end of its path seemed to confirm the inblowing theory of
Espy ; but those at the beginning could not be explained by either
theory. Discouraged and perplexed by these conflicting results, he
resolved to apply to storms the analogy drawn from the life of an
animal in its origin or embryo, its development to maturity, and its
end. From this he argued that storms must have a beginning, a dura
tion, and an end, with phases peculiar to each stage of their develop
ment and progress, like an animal ; and, guided by this analogy, he
made a careful reexamination and application of all the facts he had

1 "Storms: Their Nature, Classification, and Laws, with the Means of predicting
them by their Embodiments the Clouds." By William Blasius. Philadelphia : Porter &
Coates.

BLASIUS S THEORY OF STORMS. 295

discovered, and came to the following conclusion respecting the origin
and distinct character of tornadoes and storms :

ORIGIN or STORMS AND TORNADOES. " I had found the existence of two
opposing currents of air of different temperature, coming respectively from north
west and southwest, acting suddenly against each other after a sultry calm of some
duration; and shortly, a third gyratory force making its appearance between
them, traveling in their diagonal, growing to such magnitude as to obliterate all
trace of the straight-line forces of the opposing currents, and finally abruptly dis
appearing. The two currents must have been, during the period of sultry calm,
in a state of equilibrium, since the clouds were observed to remain for some
time almost stationary. South of the tornado s track the southwest wind pre
vailed until the beginning of the tornado, and, from information obtained for me
by ex-President Hill, it appeared that a storm had traveled from northwest to
southeast over the States of New Hampshire and Vermont, and that during its
progress a southwest wind was replaced by a northwest wind. I was thus led
to conclude that the storm announced that afternoon by the black bank of cloud
consisted in the conflict of two aerial currents of different temperature that the
colder northern current displaced the warmer southern current in the direction
from northwest to southeast, gradually decreasing in velocity until, north of
Waltham, West Cambridge, and Medford, it came to a perfect standstill, produc
ing the sultry calm felt before the tornado.

" Here the two currents, being in equilibrio, exerted a great compressive force
against each other. The equilibrium was disturbed by the uneven configuration
of the earth around Prospect Hill. This disturbance produced the tornado,
which traveled, not in the direction of the storm toward the southeast, but in
the diagonal of the two opposing currents over their region of calm at their line or
meeting, and in and underneath the black bank of clouds stretched out from west
to east which must have marked this line of meeting.

" I came thus to two distinct phenomena the tornado, and the storm in the
ordinary sense of the word both different in their origin, nature, direction, prog
ress, and appearance, and governed by entirely different laws."

Continuing his observations for several years, he came to the con
clusion

. That storms in the temperate zone at least, and over the United States, are
the effect of the conflict of opposing aerial currents of different temperatures, and
not the cause of these currents and temperatures, as seems to be assumed by some
cyclonists."

Continuing and extending his observations and studies in the gen
eral field of meteorology, our author compares his own method of
procedure with that usually pursued by others, as follows :

" Having found, during my investigations, that tornadoes and other storms
are different phenomena, and that they follow different laws, I endeavored to
investigate storms in general by the same method I had used with the tornado.

" My researches were not made by filling out the ordinary meteorological
formulae from observations made three pr four times daily, as is the custom. I
had learned that no storm will be accommodating enough to develop itself just
at the specified periods for observing ; I do not believe that this method will
ever lead to any definite results.

296 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

"A storm must be treated as an individual which is subject to development.
This is difficult, on account of the nature of the subject, but it is possible and
essential. We must take the storm at its earliest appearance, and not lose sight
of it for one moment until we know it throughout its whole extent, in all its
parts, from beginning to end."

This view of Prof. Blasius coincides with that of Sir William Her-
echel, who says :

"In endeavoring to interpret the weather, we are in the position of a man
who hears at intervals a few fragments of a long history related in a prosy, un
methodical manner. A host of circumstances omitted or forgotten, and the
want of connection between the parts, prevent the hearer from obtaining pos
session of the entire story."

DEFINITION OF A STORM. But leaving methods and passing to
results, our author defines a storm in general to be " the movement of
the air caused by its tendency to reestablish an equilibrium which has
been disturbed; and we may call all such movements storms, whether
they are gentle breezes or furious hurricanes, whether accompanied by
more or less condensation of moisture or clouds, or even by none at
all," as in deserts. t

CLASSIFICATION OF STORMS. As the result of his investigations in
aerial movements in the northern hemisphere, Prof. Blasius presents
the following classification of all storms :

1. LOCAL OB VERTICAL STORMS. Stationary. Centripetal. Produced by a
tendency of the atmosphere to reestablish in a vertical direction an equilibrium
that has been disturbed. Characteristic cloud cumulus.

2. PROGRESSIVE OR LATERAL STORMS. Traveling. Produced by a tendency
of the atmosphere to reestablish in a lateral direction an equilibrium that has
been disturbed. They are of two kinds :

(a.) EQUATORIAL OR NORTHEAST STORMS. Winter storms. Produced by a
warm current displacing a cool one to supply a deficiency toward the poles.
Temperature changing from cool to warm. Direction to the northeastern quad
rant. Characteristic cloud stratus.

(&.) POLAR OR SOUTHEAST AND SOUTHWEST STORMS. Summer storms. Pro
duced by a cool current displacing a warm one to supply a deficiency toward
the equator. Temperature changing from warm to cool. Direction to the
southern semicircle. Characteristic cloud cumulo-stratus.

3. LOCO-PROGRESSIVE OR DIAGONAL STORMS. Traveling locally. Rotary
tornadoes, hailstorms, sandstorms, water-spouts, etc. Produced by a tendency
of the atmosphere to reestablish the equilibrium of a polar storm which has
been disturbed in the plane of meeting by a peculiar configuration of the
ground. Direction, the diagonal of the forces of the two opposing currents
transversely through the polar storm. Characteristic cloud conns.

In order that the significance of the above classification may be
clearly understood, it will be well to notice in brief outline the general
movements of the atmosphere surrounding the globe, more especially
those in the northern hemisphere.

BLASIUS S THEORY OF STORMS. 297

ATMOSPHERIC CURRENTS. All storms owe their origin to the heat
of the sun, which produces differences of temperature in different por
tions of the earth, and thereby causes all the movements and currents
which take place in the atmosphere around the globe. As the air at
the equator is more highly heated by the sun than that of any other
region, it expands, becomes lighter and rises, causing a partial vacuum
or deficiency there at the surface of the earth. The air north and
south of it at once moves forward from opposite directions to supply
this deficiency at the equator, and this in turn becomes heated and
ascends. Other air again moves forward from north and south to
replace it, and thus an upward current at the equator, and a north
and south polar current at the surface toward the equator, are estab
lished. These north and south polar currents cause a deficiency of
air at the poles, and the heated air which has risen at the equator into
the upper region of the atmosphere divides and moves forward tow
ard the opposite poles to supply the deficiency caused there. Thus,
upper currents in opposite directions from the equator to the poles
are also established in order to restore the equilibrium disturbed by
the surface polar currents flowing toward the equator.

But by the time the air of the upper currents has reached the re
gion of the tropics, it has become cooler and heavier, and descends to
the surface of the earth. Here it divides into two currents one
flowing back to the equator, forming the trade-winds ; and the other,
becoming warmer again at the surface, flows toward the poles, meet
ing the polar current somewhere north of the tropic in the northern
hemisphere, and south of it in the southern. This meeting of the
equatorial or tropical and polar currents in the temperate zone, and the
various phenomena attending and resulting from it, are the most sig
nificant and important facts which constitute the basis of Pr.of. Bla-
sius s theory of storms, in distinction from the centripetal theory of
Espy, and the rotary theory of Colonel Clapper, as developed by Pid-
dington, Thorn, Dove, and others, and better known in this country
as the cyclone theory of Redfield.

The following diagram (Fig. 1) will serve to indicate the move
ments and courses of the general atmospheric currents of the earth,
as above described, the arrows showing the directions in which they
move.

The two currents above referred to the polar and the equato
rial or tropical are of different temperatures, and move horizontally
in opposite directions toward each other. When they meet they over
lap each other somewhat like two wedges with their sharp ends for
ward. The warmer current, being lighter, glides obliquely over the
cooler current, and moves northward ; and the cooler current, being
heavier, moves beneath it on the surface of the earth southward, just
as two currents, warm and cold, flow over each other in opposite di
rections through an open window or door of a heated room.

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The plane of meeting between these two currents is more or less
inclined northward in the northern hemisphere, for the reason just
stated ; and the lower end of the plane, or the space of air between
these two currents where they meet on the surface of the earth, 1 con
stitutes the centre line or area proper of the storm, and the region of
lowest barometer. The horizontal plane beneath this inclined plane a

FIG. 1. ATMOSPHERIC CURRENTS.

is the geographical extent of the region affected by the storm and the
region of low barometer. The place where the currents meet is con
stantly changing with the changing seasons, following the sun north
ward in summer and southward in winter. These changes of locality
do not, however, take place in one continuous movement of the at
mosphere ; but with successive oscillations, like the waves of a rising
tide, each succeeding wave advancing farther and receding less than
the one before it, until its most northern or southern limit is reached
as represented by the numbers 1 and 2 in the diagram when the
oscillations in the opposite direction again begin. Whenever the
lower end of the plane of meeting between the two opposing currents
at B oscillates or passes over any place on the surface of the earth, it
will cause storm or change of weather there a change of wind, of
temperature, and of atmospheric pressure.

The inclination of the plane of meeting, or the slope of the tropi-

1 As shown at B iii the diagram.

2 From B to D.

BLASIUS S THEORY OF STORMS. 299

cal current over the polar, varies with the seasons and local circum
stances. In winter the slope between the two currents is very gradual,
as there is less difference of temperature, and less power of resistance
between them. The warm current passes over the cold at a gentle in
clination (as represented by the line If in Fig. 1) ; and thus the
horizontal or geographical extent of the storm beneath it from J5 to
D which is the region of low barometer, is much enlarged, and
sometimes its oscillations extend or move over several hundred miles.

In summer, however, the difference of temperature between the
two currents, and their power of resistance, are greater, and when
they meet they bank up against each other with more momentum and
force, and the plane of meeting or conflict is often very steep and
sometimes almost vertical (as indicated by H in Fig. 2). Hence,
the geographical extent of a storm in summer is much less than in
winter, and the region of low barometer which moves with it is cor
respondingly small.

CLOUDS THE PRECURSORS OF STORMS. Whenever a warm cur
rent of air, saturated with moisture, meets or mingles with a cold
current, the invisible moisture of the warm air is condensed into visi
ble vapor or clouds. As storms are produced by the movements and
conflicts of warm and cold currents of air, the formation of clouds
always indicates to the observer the region in the atmosphere where
such movements are taking place, which would otherwise be invisible.
Clouds, therefore, are the invariable precursors of storms, and the
kind of clouds formed will indicate the kind of storm or atmospheric
movements which produce them.

This general fact, however, does not apply to deserts, where the
moisture of the warm air is condensed and precipitated before it
meets the cooler air, and hence rain-clouds are seldom or never formed
by the sand-storms of deserts.

CLASSIFICATION OF CLOUDS. Whenever, on account of some topo
graphic circumstances, the sun heats any locality on the surface of
the earth more than the surrounding region, a gentle current or col
umn of heated air rises, and its invisible moisture is condensed into
small masses of clouds called cumuli, which spread and produce the
mottled appearance commonly known as " mackerel sky," as indi
cated at 1 in the accompanying illustration (Fig. 2).

But when, as is frequently the case in summer, a valley or plain, or
island, or any other place, is much more highly heated by the sun than
the surrounding region, the heated air over such locality rises more
rapidly and with more ascensional momentum ; and, as it reaches the
higher and cooler regions of the atmosphere, its moisture is condensed
into large rounded volumes, or mountain-like masses of cumulus clouds,
as indicated at 2 in the illustration. Such cumulus clouds always pre
cede and characterize a local summer storm or shower.

When the warm horizontal current from the south, as in winter,

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meets with tlie cold current from the north, it slopes upward over the
cooler current, and forms stripes or bands of stratus clouds along the
horizon, as shown in Fig. 3.

FIG. 2. CUMULUS CLOUDS.

These stratus clouds indicate to the observer the fact that a warm
current is coming northward.

When in summer a cool current is moving southward, it encoun
ters the warm equatorial or tropical current, which again glides up
ward and over it, and forms horizontal bands of stratus clouds along
the upper line of contact, as in winter storms ; but, in addition, the
denser cold air from the north, moving with more momentum, will
lift up the warm and saturated air from the tropics, and its moisture

BLASIUS S THEORY OF STORMS. 301

will be condensed into masses of cumulus clouds banked up against
the top of the cold current, and arranged over the horizontal stratus
clouds. Thus is produced the combination of cumulo-stratus cloud,
as represented in Fig. 4, and which is characteristic of progressive
summer storms.

FIG. 3. STRATUS CLOUDS.

To the tornado-cloud produced by a whirl of air, and resembling
an inverted cone, Prof. Blasius gives the name of conus, which is
both distinctive and appropriate.

These four typical classes of clouds viz., cumulus, stratus, cu
mulo-stratus, and conus indicate and characterize the four different
classes of storms.

PREDICTION OF STORMS. With the foregoing facts and classifica
tions in view, Prof. Blasius s method of predicting the approach of
storms, " by their embodiments the clouds," can be verified by any
careful observer of ordinary intelligence.

WINTER STORMS. When in winter, while the wind is blowing
from the north, thin, hazy bands or stripes of stratus clouds appear
low in the southern horizon, it indicates that the warm current from
the south is flowing northward, sloping over the polar current, and
that the condensation of its vapor into clouds, by successive undula
tions, has commenced in the upper and colder regions of contact.
More and more of these stratus clouds gradually appear, until they
cover the entire southern sky and reach the zenith. This may require

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from twelve to twenty-four hours, or longer. Sometimes these clouds,
before reaching the zenith, will recede and disappear beneath the
southern horizon. This indicates a backward oscillation of the south
ern current, caused by the greater resistance of the polar current.
But in such case the stratus clouds will reappear next day, or sooner,
and uniting and, becoming denser, they will advance over the zenith,
and cover the whole heavens, discharging rain, snow, or sleet, accord-
ing to the thermal conditions present.

FIG. 4. CUMULO-STKATUS CLOUDS.

Thus, by observing the clouds, a northeast or winter storm may
always be predicted from one to three days beforehand, while the
barometer shows no change until the stratus clouds from the south
have reached and passed over the zenith, when it begins to fall ; but
the thermometer indicates no change.

At this stage of the storm the wind from the north rises and blows
more violently, while the clouds move northward against the wind,
and the rain or snow, driven by the prevailing wind, comes down
obliquely from the north. After some time the direction of the wind
changes, and there is a calm. The air is warmer, the thermometer
rises suddenly, the barometer has reached its lowest point, and the
rain or snow falls vertically. This calm continues for a longer or
shorter time, and the wind gradually changes until it comes from
nearly or quite the opposite quarter from which it came at the begin
ning of the storm, and blows more powerfully than before. The

BLASIUS S THEORY OF STORMS. 303

barometer now rises again, but is not as high as before the storm,
because it is in the tropical current which has reached the locality.
If, now, the wind from the south, which has prevailed and driven
back the northern current, continues in the same direction until the
entire atmospheric area of the storm passes over the zenith north
ward, and the sky clears up from the south or southwest, as is gen
erally the case in early autumn or late spring, then the next storm or
change of weather will come from the north. But if the wind changes
its direction again before the storm is over, as is mostly the case in
mid-winter, and blows from the north, as it did at the beginning,
until the entire atmospheric area of the storm is carried backward
over the zenith, and the sky clears from the north, then the next
storm or change of weather will come from the south, as described
above. In this case the polar current has prevailed, the air is colder,
the thermometer falls, the barometer rises higher than in the other
case, and the atmospheric conditions existing before the storm are
gradually reestablished.

SUMMER STORMS. Before a progressive summer storm, the air is
usually warm and sultry, the sky cloudless but somewhat dim, and a
light southerly breeze is blowing. Suddenly the sound of distant rum
bling thunder is heard, and large masses of dark cumulus clouds rise
and arrange themselves on a long bank of stratus clouds in the north
ern or northwestern horizon. This is the cumulo-stratus combination
of clouds which is the herald of a polar or progressive summer storm.
Soon the south wind increases in violence, and drives clouds of dust
before it. The thunder rolls, and lightning flashes more frequently.
The clouds bank up higher and higher, and advance more slowly, until
at last they become stationary. These are the ordinary indications of a
violent progressive summer storm, which sometimes ends in a tornado.

Like a winter storm, it is produced by the meeting and conflict of
the polar and tropical currents under greater differences of temperature
and other conditions, and is therefore attended with more violent and
complex phenomena than those of a winter storm. The changes of
wind, and of the barometer and thermometer, during its development
at any locality, are similar to those of a winter storm in its return
oscillation southward ; that is, these changes occur in a reverse order
to those of a winter storm during the regular progress of the tropical
current northward, in the same order as during its oscillation south
ward.

In most cases of this kind of summer storms, after the clouds have
remained stationary for some time, discharged their rain and restored
the disturbed equilibrium of the atmosphere, the polar current which
produced it by moving southward oscillates back to the north again,
and the storm at this locality is over although similar phenomena
and changes will be occasioned by it later at other localities over
which it sweeps in its oscillation northward.

304 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

The cumulo-stratus cloud, which is the precursor of this kind of
storm, can usually be observed only from one to eight hours, and, in
some cases of the most violent kind, only about twelve hours before it
will burst upon a place. Although these storms are the most danger
ous and destructive not unfrequently ending in tornadoes and hurri
canes the barometer is of no practical service in predicting it. This
is explained by the fact that in such storms the plane of meeting of
the two currents moves southward with its lower extremity, or region
of lowest barometer, in front, while the plane itself is more or less
inclined northward. Hence the barometer shows no change until
this region of lowest barometer moves over it, when it suddenly falls ;
but it is then already in the most dangerous part of the storm, and its
warning, therefore, comes too late ; while the clouds, if properly ob
served, always give warning in time to provide against the dangers
of such a storm.

TORNADOES. This class of storms includes hailstorms, water
spouts, hurricanes, and all storms in which rotary and lateral motions
are more or less combined. They are the most violent and destruc
tive of all storms, as well as the most complicated and difficult to
understand and explain. They are the offspring of progressive polar
or summer storms, and in the temperate zone occur only during
summer.

When in the development of a summer storm, as above described,
the two conflicting currents attain a state of equal power or resistance,
and thus balance each other, which is indicated when the dense cumu
lus clouds over the plane of conflict become stationary, then the storm
is at its crisis. The air within the region of conflict is compressed and
very sultry, and this condition is always felt before a tornado by per
sons within its area. If, now, during this critical stage of the storm,
no topographic or other disturbance of its tension take place in its
plane of meeting, a return oscillation of the polar current northward
will set in, and the storm will gradually clear away. But if, in this
crisis of the storm and during this high state of compression and re
sistance, either current becomes stronger, and forces back the other
over some hill or valley, or if some other obstruction or configuration
of the surface of the earth breaks the tension or disturbs the resistance
between the two currents at any point, so that the polar current will
sink as in a valley, then the tropical current will suddenly rush into
this depression and generate a succession of violent whirling and zig
zag motions along the diagonal of the two currents within the plane
of conflict, as the waters of a dam would rush through a sudden break
or depression in an embankment. This conclusion respecting the
origin of tornadoes Prof. Blasius reached after his careful study of
the West Cambridge tornado of 1851, and it was subsequently con
firmed by the facts and phenomena connected with the tornado of
Iowa and Illinois, in May, 1873, as obtained from the report of the

BLASIUS S THEORY OF STORMS. 305

United States Signal Service for that year, as well as by those of other
tornadoes.

The characteristic cloud of a tornado is the conus, which appears
first above as a dense, dark disk, and is formed by the whirl of the
tropical current rushing into the depression of the polar current which
starts the tornado, and it is enlarged and lengthened by alternate
and rapid condensations above and below, as the tropical air whirls
and zigzags along the diagonal of conflict, until sometimes the conus
above and below unite as in the case of water-spouts at sea and a
rotating column of mingled air, dense cloud, dust, or water as the
case may be is thus formed, and sweeps along the plane of meeting
between the opposing currents, and beneath the bank of cumulus
clouds which mark the area of a tornado s path of destruction.

The conus cloud, however, as above described, is only formed when
the tornado has already commenced, and is therefore of no use to indi
cate its occurrence beforehand.

But when the dark and dense masses of cumulus clouds in a sum
mer storm cease moving forward or laterally, but bank up higher and
higher, and there is great commotion among them, and when there is
an oppressive sultriness about the air, these phenomena always indi
cate that the suspended storm is in a crisis or condition to generate a
tornado, in case some local obstruction or other cause disturb the
equilibrium of resistance between the two conflicting currents.

SCIENTIFIC ASPECTS. The condensed result of modern meteor
ological science is the general fact announced by Prof. Buys-Ballot,
of Utrecht, that " the wind always blows from the place of highest to
that of lowest barometer, turning by the rotation of the earth to the
right on the northern hemisphere, and to the left on the southern
hemisphere." This is known as " Ballot s Law," and is the chief
basis of all scientific weather predictions at the present day.

The first part of this law, given in italics, is found to be universally
correct. The second part, however, has many exceptions, and is as
often " honored in the breach as in the observance ; " for, in polar
storms, the winds from the northern semicircle do not conform to it.

Among other definite results attained by barometric observations
and deduced from Ballot s law, is the fact that the rain-area of a
storm extends over that of lowest barometer and also surrounds it.
The isobars, or elliptic lines, of equal barometer, surround the area of
lowest barometer, and the most distant isobar marks the limit of the
region of low barometer, and may be regarded as the boundary be
tween the regions of high and low barometer. The gradients indicate
the differences of pressure between the isobars on a line extending at
right angles from that of highest to that of lowest barometer.

The shape of the area of lowest barometer in a progressive storm
is that of an irregularly elongated ellipse, moving sideways, or in the
direction of its shortest diameter; and the gradients are found to be

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3 o6 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

much more steep on the southward than on the northward side of this
area ; from which it follows that the rain-area is much less on the
southward